European Escapades - europeanescapades

Mis Padres.
With my mami y papi.

Prima con su tata.
My cousin (prima), Claudia, with her aunt/my mom (tata= auntie), Conchi at my grandparent's house for my last lunch with my whole family. :(

Mi abuela!
Grandma Maria cooking tortilla.

One big happy.
Grandpa, dad, Claudia and aunt Monica.

One big happy: 2.
Uncle, Mom, Claudia and Grandma.

Padres + 1.
With my parents and Claudia (and Navas, my grandparent's CRAZY dog!)

Extended family.
Aunt Monica, Uncle Miguel and Claudia.

Mis abuelos.
<3

Last day with Miguel.
This was the last day I'll see Miguel, since he's at Guardia Civil during the week, and I'm coming back on a Tuesday before heading back to the States.

And Chispi, my other brother.
We couldn't forget about Chispi!

The short and tall of it...
Conchi, the shortest one of us all, decided to take this picture, making us look like awkward giants. Papi liked it, though, because it looks like he's the tallest!

With my brothers.
Precious.

<3 Mama
She feeds me. I love her.

<3 Padres
My roommates.

Sweet 'n' Salty.
The tapas at the bar were potato chips with gummy drops. Random. (This is Arman, Molly and Jeff, by the by.)

Cousins.
This is my 12-year-old cousin, Claudia.

I went down to the river to...
fish, of course.

From Miguel's favorite looking spot.
Miguel (my dad) took my family to his favorite over-look of Toledo. He's such a great dad.

Mi padre espanol.
This is my Spanish dad, Miguel. He's amazing.




My family.
I truly am blessed to have such an amazing family. Well, now I have two amazing families, making me doubly blessed.

Even with the clouds, Toledo is breathtaking.


Walking along.
I walked (almost) all the way home one day, and took some pictures along the way.

Mirror.
The sky was blue, the water calm, the reflections that appeared could be from a psalm.

Ancient.
Castles sprinkle Spain's countryside, but none are so majestic as Toledo's, which burst with pride.

Walk, side.
Sun setting, shadows creeping, I walked along and let the warmth keep seeping.

Otra vez.
A few steps later, I looked, and though the same! I couldn't resist just one more frame.

Majestic.
The Alcazar, closed for repairs in and out, never takes a break from reminding all he's got the clout.

Cervantes.
Miguel de Cervantes once called this region home. He wrote his famous book, in which two best friends roam.

Duo.
Quixote and Sancho appear all over the place. And always one has confusion on his face.

Maze.
The city of cobblestones, mazes and power, never ceases to take a breath; there's magic behind each tower.

Attack.
Graffiti can weave a dreary, sad and lonesome thread. Or it can bring to life a wall once blank and dead.

Spain Snow.
Ugh.

Wet...
...and cold.

Big...
Flakes.

Drip...
Drop.

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Our quest:
Conquer the castle.

Nafplio.
I took this just as we were beginning our hike up to the castle.

Up, up, up!
The castle way up on top of the hill. 999 steps!

A quarter of the way there.
That was just the beginning.

Greece's first capital.
A view of Nafplio's peninsula.

Glimpse of the sea.


A third of the way there.
We stopped for a photo break.

<3 Nafplio.
SO much better than over-crowded, dirty Athens.

Dangling.


Multi-view.


Climbing higher.
Laura exploring what was up top.

Perfect perch.
The view was magnificent.

Thirds.


Exploration invitation.


Breaking.
Erin taking a break.

Archways.
We're not really sure what this was, but it was fun to explore.

At the top!
We made it up!

Even more.
Once up top, we realized there's more to the castle than we originally thought. Perfect!

Keeps going, and going...


So much to do and see!
Yay for sunny days and no agendas.

See the sea.


Three musketeers.
Yeah self-timed picture!

Tip-top.
I kept going until I got to the very top of the castle. It was definitely worth traversing through the area marked with "Caution: Falling Rocks" signs.

Tip-top: 2


Tip-top: 3
"X" marks the spot.

Tip-top: 4


Tip-top: 5


Tip-top: 6


Tip-top: 7
Probably my favorite picture of the day.

Tip-top: 8


Tip-top: 9


Tip-top: 10


Tip-top: 11


Tip-top: 12


Tip-top: 13


Tip-top: 14
Another favorite.

Tip-top: 15


Tip-top: 16


Making our way back down.
The walk back down actually hurt more than the walk up.

Owners.
As in: we OWNED that mountain!

About that time...
...for the sun to say goodnight.

Adventure around the peninsula.
Wednesday we walked around the peninsula. It was a tad chilly, but beautiful.

The mountain we now own.


Sun streams.


Here it comes..!


Magnificently blue.


Not posed.
Laura always looks like a model.

Ahhh.
Refreshing.

Mr. Moon saying hello to Mr. Castle.


Story time.
Thursday before heading back to Athens, Laura, Erin and I decided to go to Mycenae to see the ruins. It was only a 30 minute bus ride from Nafplio so it seemed like a logical decision. We asked our hotel's receptionist if he thought we should leave our things or take them with us. He advised us to take them with so that we wouldn't have to come back to Nafplio. "It will save you time and money!" he said with smile. "Okay!" we agreed. WRONG. We got there (there being Ancient Mycenae, not an actual town), the bus drove off, and we were stuck with our large backpacks, an 8 euro fee to get in (which we did not pay), and a 3 kilometer walk back to town to catch the bus to Athens. So, we took a few pictures and started walking.

Greek countryside.
At least it was pretty.

There she is.
The ruins of Mycenae herself. It looked way cooler as a clay model at the National Archaeological Museum.

Woo.


On the walk.


The sun kept us motivated.
We also sang 14 verses of "99 bottles of beer on the wall" to keep ourselves entertained.

100% Greek.
Even the mailboxes brag of their nationality.

VIP for 3 hours.
The business class lounge at the Madrid airport.

Relaxing.
Elias fully enjoying the lounge.

The National Archaeological Museum.


Sunshine.
Laura taking advantage of the plush grass and warm sun.

Resting.
Erin and I also enjoying the sun.

Inside the museum: 1.
No nose.

Inside the museum: 2


Inside the museum: 3


Inside the museum: 4
What's left of Zeus.

Inside the museum: 5
Poseidon

Inside the museum: 6
Aphrodite fighting off Pan.

Inside the museum: 7
Pick a head, any head.

Inside the museum: 8


Inside the museum: 9
They're having a blast.

Inside the museum: 10


Lunch!
Our first Greek meal: gyros and Greek salad. It was divine.

Acropolis.
Next stop: the Acropolis.

Leading to the Acropolis.


At the foot of the hill.
Behind this "wall" is the theater.

Peek!
The Parthenon is peaking out.

Helping.
Doing my part to hold things together.

The three musketeers.
And we had some crazy adventures, let me tell you.

View from Acropolis hill: 1


View from Acropolis hill: 2


View from Acropolis hill: 3
Laura!

View from Acropolis hill: 4


View from Acropolis hill: 5
More ruins.

View from Acropolis hill: 6
The Acropolis.

View from Acropolis hill: 7
The girls taking a "feet" picture.

View from Acropolis hill: 8
Erin and Laura.

View from Acropolis hill: 9
Hanging out w/ the Acropolis.

View from Acropolis hill: 10
All together now!

Coming down.
Heading back down.. it was getting chilly.

The theater, the theater.
Inside the Acropolis looking down at the theater.

Theater + view: 1


Theater + view: 2


Theater + view: 3


With the theater.


Lazy pup.
All the dogs I saw in Greece were either sleeping or looking for a place to sleep. They truly live the "there's always tomorrow" lifestyle.

One of the buildings making up the Acropolis.



It looks like I'm doing something awkward with my arms, but really I'm holding onto a wire.

The girls.
It was rainy and chilly, but we managed.

Ceiling.
Anything this old and this beautiful that's stood for so long boggles my mind.




Looking down.
A little dandelion making an appearance. And umbrellas. Boo rain.

Construction.
The Parthenon... and lots of construction.

One umbrella, two umbrella...


Just in case you forgot...
The Greek flag is there to remind you who all this belongs to. They don't skimp on pride.

A peek at the peak.
St. George's Cathedral perched on the mountain.

Way up high.
How on Earth they lugged all this marble way up here is beyond me.

More pieces of Zeus.
What remains of Zeus' temple. Poor guy.

Again,
we were high up.

Parthenon.
Part of the Parthenon not covered with construction materials. Or I guess the correct phrase would be re-construction...

Ruined.
Old stuff.

Rain or shine.


A different old theater.


Pretty Parthenon.


Still pretty...
just use your imagination to erase the scaffolding.

The sign says:
Please do not climb on the wall.

Goodbye, Acropolis.

Cuenca trip.
The Fund organized a trip to Cuenca. The town is about 2 hours from Toledo and is surrounded by two rivers. Very pretty indeed.


Spring time blossoms.
Cuenca is just starting to blossom. Toledo's been in full bloom for about 2 weeks now :)


Perching.
Hot spot location.

My love.
Anna and I stopping to pose for a pic.


Sunshine.
And on your left, Spain's oldest cathedral.


Bridge.
The trekked us all onto a wooden bridge over a small brook. I didn't like it.


Slanty.
The landscape was very unique in Cuenca. The town was built into the valley and rocks, giving it a rustic feel.


Monestary.
Where the monks live.


If you look closely...
Mr. Statue was given a red cardigan to wear.


Bluffs.

Rugby: better than soccer.
That's not really what this statue says, but it's what I think!

Buckingham Palace
Not quite what I pictured, but still beautiful in its own, majestic way.

The gates of Buck.
They look a lot like the ones for the Madrid palace. You know what they say, you've seen one, you've seen 'em all!




At the gates of Buck.


Buckingham: 2


Rawr.
One of the massive lion statues at the fountain across from the palace.

Fellow watchers.
Waiting for the changing of the guard.

Hup, two, three, four.
The beginning of the changing of the guard ceremony.

Watching and waiting.
There are big gaps within the changing of the guard... it was cold... we were all a bit bored.

Ewww.
Mis-placed rat tail.

Purple!
Taxis :)

Buckingham: 3
More of the changing of the guards from further away.

Buckingham: 4
And again. Told you it was a long ceremony.

FLOWERS!
So bright and cheerful.

...
Not exactly sure what this entire building is, but I do know it houses Winston Churchill's museum.

Peek of the London Eye.


First glimpse of...
BIG BEN! Love.

Big Ben: 2
What a majestic clock. I love him.

Big Ben: 3


Big Ben: 4


Westminster Abbey
Fantastically built, it looks worn in and comfortable, the way a church should look. It was breathtakingly beautiful; my favorite church so far. When I go back to London, I'll actually go inside.

Westminster: 2


Westminster: 3


Westminster: 4


Westminster: 5


Westminster: 6


Westminster: 7


Westminster: 8


Westminster: 9


Parliament: The Big Brother of London
This is my favorite building so far (Big Ben doesn't count because he's attached). Parliament stretches all the way down the Thames river and dominates your view. It's grandiose and powerful and firm.

Parliament: 2


Parliament: 3


Parliament: 4


All in one.
A few of the main London attractions in one view.

Horizontal this time.


Mr. Ben and his security guard.


Inside the gates.
Another, closer look at Parliament.

Ben again.


Peek.


How could you not love this clock? It's amazing!


Yet another peek.
I get a little snap happy with buildings I really like.




You know who.


Massive.
This building oozes power.

Gold trim.


London Eye.
Seems to be everywhere...

Thames River.


Different side of Parliament.


The Eye again... He's watching you.








Across the Thames from Parliament.


The whole shazaam.


Plus One.


Delicious.
Fantastic Indian food from Camden Street market. Yummm.

Filled us right up.
And warmed us up, too.

Tights.
Her outfit was just so... out there. I had to creep.

Trafalgar Square.


One side of Trafalgar.


The other side of Trafalgar + Jeff.


The National Gallery.
Free and full of amazing art. Perfect.

Another side of Trafalgar.


Symmetrical.


Notting Hill.
And just a little section of it, too!

After a long day...
...we plopped ourselves down at the Tube station to go get some groceries.

All in a line.


Princess Diana's Gardens.
Inside Hyde Park is where Princess Di used to live.

Sunshining day.


Princess Di's house.


Now a museum.


Daffodils=
Spring.

Chubby bushes.


Hyde Park.


Garden.


Litter.
Not a verb.

Playing.


Peter Pan!


B&W.


Plus one.


Quack.
Or honk. It may have been a goose.

More quackers (honkers).


London Bridge.


On the South side of the bridge.


Classic buses.
Double-decker reds.

Reflections of the Thames.


"The City."
Across London Bridge is "The City" portion of London, as dubbed by my tour book.

The City: 2


The Thames.


Tower Bridge.
Much cooler than London Bridge.

The City: 3


Tower Bridge: 2


The Barges.


Tower Bridge: 3


Under Tower Bridge


Tower Bridge: 4


The Barges + The City


Tower Bridge: 5


The City through Tower Bridge


The Tower of London
Previously a castle, military fortress, dungeon and execution site.

Dun dun dun...
Two of King Henry VIII's wives were beheaded here.

The Globe Theater
Reconstructed using as much of the original building as possible,
Shakespeare's Globe Theater is still host to outdoor performances during the summer.

The Globe Theater


Self-explanatory.


Another bridge...

Train.
We missed the fast train (the Ave) by 3 minutes and had to take the slow train to Segovia. Mark was extremely enthused.

The very Gothic cathedral.
Segovia's cathedral is the most Gothic building I've seen so far in Spain.

Cathedral: 2


Wet.
Segovia is high in the mountains, therefore it was about 20 degrees colder and much wetter than Madrid. We did not dress appropriately.

Alcazar.
Segovia's Alcazar, which Walt Disney modeled Cinderella's castle after. I love that fact.

Alcazar: 2
I got Mom and Dad from the side while Mark captured them from the front.

Alcazar: 3


Alcazar: 4


Moat.
I wish it was still full of water, it would be so much cooler.

Not quite the same.
Mark was just a tad larger than this suit of armor. Just a smidge.

Father and son.


Horse.
Even the horse had special armor. I wonder how much they liked it, though...

Stained glass.
Beautiful.

Throne.
Guess who sat here?

More stained glass.
I loved all the colors.

Hello, ceiling.
GORGEOUS ceilings. I did not expect that from a military fortress.


Playing with the light.

Sir Swirls.


I really like stained glass.
I think I discovered my other addiction besides photographing lampposts: stained glass windows.

Pinecones.
Gold.

The bedroom.
Not quite as elegant as one might think.

Bed.


Sight-seeing.
The view from the Alcazar was beautiful. Lots of gardens that will be gorgeous once they bloom.


It's hard to tell due to the bad weather/late spring, but it really was pretty.

More gold.
They don't skimp in Spain.

Pick a chair...
...any chair.

I found some more.
Stained glass, that is.

Airy.


Golden chapel.
And shadowy lantern.

"Big Chair."
It's a camp song...

All in a row.
"'Tis but a flesh wound!" (addressing the lack of legs and "Monty Python.")

Boom.


Another line-up.


Plus 2.


Waving.


Life-like.
If these soldiers were in "Night at the Museum," they would for sure come alive.

These, too.


Studious.
Mom reading about the room we were in. Such a good teacher.

One smile!
I got one of them to show their teeth. I consider this an accomplishment.

Well hello there.


From the top.
We climbed up the 152 twisty and curvy stairs of the tower without passing out (barely, mom) or throwing up (me, from being dizzy). Good thing it was worth it. Plus, it warmed us up a bit.

Segovia.


Mountains.
I can't wait to come back in April when this is (hopefully) sunny and even more green!

Mommy and Daddy.
<3

Like Disney pictured...
it really did feel like a fairytale land from up there.


I suppose Cinderella's room would have been up here some place. That explains why the mice had so much trouble getting the key to her...

Picture perfect.
I like cheesy captions.

The men...
and the flag.

The women...
and the landscape.

Last picture from up top.
Back down we go.

So long.
Farewell to you, rainy, downtown Segovia.

Hello.
Another incredible sight in a different part of town: the Aquaduct. Built in 50 BC (or 100 AD... my guidebook couldn't quite make up its mind...) without a drop of mortar, this marvel was used to transport water until 60 years ago.

Tall.
I don't do well with spacial concepts, so this blows my mind.

Peek-a-boo!


Curvacious.





Where's Ellen?


...
I really got taken-aback by the turn. No mortar? Or modern machinery? I couldn't even make this with Legos.

It keeps going, and going, and going...


Senior Pic.
Oh hey, dad!

Group pic.
The boys, again.

Little ones
supporting the big ones. Go figure.

Again.
I snagged another senior picture-esque shot of Dad.

Fountain.
It reminded me of the "Rain" song from "Bambi." Disney was really stuck in my head that day.

Drip-drop.



One-two-three.

Old and new.
Well, we'll just build the city right up to the Aquaduct. No big deal. It's not like it's an incredible historic accomplishment or anything.

Only in Europe... America would make people pay the moment it was visible. Here, you just walk around it like any other building.

Stairway to...
...the other part of the Aquaduct. Not heaven. Sorry.

From 30 and rainy...
...to 70 and sunny! Madrid, Saturday. Parque del Gran Retiro.

Water.
At the "lake." Hah.

Las Ramblas.
The most colorful street I've encountered since being in Spain: Las Ramblas. More flowers and street performers than you can imagine! It was wonderful and smelled like spring.

Las Ramblas.
Another shot of the street.

Imported palms.
The first plaza we stopped at on our walking tour of the Gothic quarters of Barcelona. The palm trees were imported to "pretty things up" for the 1992 Olympic Games.

Gaudi's lamp.
Gaudi's first publicly-displayed work of art: a lamppost.

Palms.


Chow.
Enjoying the sun and some food in the plaza.

Tricked you.
This used to be the red light district of Barcelona. It was on this street Picasso found 5 prostitutes to paint, later claiming they were French models. It's still a widely believed "fact" today.

Prostitution is legal in Barcelona, but there are rules: (1) You have to have a day job. (2) You can't 'flaunt' your goods. (3) You can't have a pimp.

Public nudity is also legal, with one catch: you have to wear shoes. Go figure.

Barcino.
Barcelona is built on top of the ancient Roman city, Barcino. The ruins of the original city have been dug out, and you can go on a 2-hour tour underneath the current city of Barcelona.

Columns.
We checked out three of the original Roman columns... for free. Quite the deal.

Roman Ruins.
Some of the remains from ancient Barcino.




Cathedral.
The Cathedral of Barcelona. Built with sandstone, it's currently under construction. Like every other cathedral in Europe seems to be.

Cathedral: 2


Cathedral: 3


Cathedral: 4


Cathedral: 5


Catalan Government.
Barcelona is located in the Catalunya region of Spain, one of the two that would like to be separate from the country. This is one of the main government buildings, and the plaza in front of it, Plaza de Constitucion, plays host to many protests throughout the year.

Mr. Guard


The other Government building.
This Government building hosts the Catalunyan parliament and is across the street from the other government building, ideal for the protesters.

St. George
This is Barcelona's patron saint, St. George.

Plaza de San Felip
During the Spanish Civil War, this plaza housed the children of those fighting for the Republicanos (the good guys fighting against Franco.) Franco, knowing full well that only children lived here, gave his militia the plaza's coordinates and ordered them to bomb it. He also used the plaza as an execution site. It is now home to a preschool, hence the adorable children pictured in smocks.

More cuties.


The one who got away.
He pretended to be with the school group...


...but his mom caught on and caught him.

Jeans and Converse Sneakers.


Plaza del Rey.
This building is where Queen Isabel and King Fernando gave Columbus the "okay" to venture to America. It's steps now serve as a munching ground to hungry tourists.

Teens.
and Tweens.

Plaid
pants.

All smocked up.
More little guys... I couldn't help myself. They were too cute.

Hugs!



I didn't catch what this mini-bridge was called, or why it is famous, but it's in a lot of Barcelona's post cards, so I took a picture of it.

Decor.
Everything seemed to be more decorated in Barcelona.

Cathedral: 6


Gargoyles.
My architecture teacher says gargoyles are named due to the noise they make when water passes through them. She then proceeds to demonstrate the noise to us.

Cathedral: 7
I loved the geometric aura of the Cathedral.

Once just a slab of wood...
This was at one time a giant piece of wood brought back by Columbus from America. Now it's an ornate ceiling for one of the palace's stairways.

Details.


BARCINO
It took forever to get this picture without anyone walking through it.

GAUDI-GAUDI-GAUDI
Pretty much sums up Barcelona.

Picasso.
To spite his best friend (who was also his biggest rival), Picasso drew this on a napkin saying it was an exact replica of the work his friend did. It was the only original Picasso this hospital could afford, so here it is!

Iglesia de Saint Maria del Pi
The biggest round window of any church in Europe.

Smoke.
All the cigarette boxes here are clearly labeled, "If you smoke, you will die."


It doesn't seem to be doing much good stopping the Spaniards from smoking, however.

I <3 Barcelona.
True story.

LA BOQUERIA
Despite all the amazing Gaudi I saw while in Barcelona, one of my absolute favorite places was La Boqueria: the daily "farmer's market" boasting veggies, fruit, nuts, meat, fish, candy, coffee, etc. . . anything you desire.

Tourists for a day.
Cat, Anna, Becca and I decided to go all-out Saturday and be the ultimate tourists.

What a deal!
For only 21 euro, we got to take a bus around ALL of Barcelona for the entire day, getting on and off as we pleased. So great.

Ready to go!
We were all pretty darn excited.

...
Becca was apparently sick of pictures already. Little did she know...

So many languages...
...but I "cheated" and chose English. I just wanted to learn!

Top-tier.
Too bad it was so chilly.

Gaudi: 1


My addiction was fueled by these lampposts.
Even the lampposts are classy in Barcelona.

Gaudi: 2


Gaudi: 2, take 2.


Cool pointy tower building.


My fellow touristy tourist.
He matched all the warning signs.

La Sagrada Familia: 1
This was Guadi's baby (aka masterpiece). It will be under construction until completely finished according to Gaudi's original plans... which will take a long, long time.

Sagrada Familia: 2


Sagrada Familia: 3


Sagrada Familia: 4


Sagrada Familia: 5


Sagrada Familia: 6


Sagrada Familia: 7


Bocce ball, baby.
I was fortunate enough to witness this hot-spot of Barcelona at a stop light. Notice the action shot.

My favorite picture, reinvented.
Just like in Toledo, the men here are always classy with their hats, leather shoes and classic past times.

Park Guell: 1
Gaudi drew his inspiration from nature, and this park (all his design) demonstrates this passion perfectly.

Park Guell: 2
It looks like a gingerbread house.

Park Guell: 3


Park Guell: 4
Gumdrops?

Park Guell: 5


Park Guell: 6
Look closely: it's all broken pieces of ceramic. The entire park. Incredible!

Park Guell: 7


Park Guell: 8


Park Guell: 9
I couldn't get over how many details there were.

Park Guell: 10
A very famous lizard. He's everywhere.

Park Guell: 11
Zoomed out...

Park Guell: 11, take 2.
...Zoomed in.

Park Guell: 12
The actual park part of the park. Yup.

Park Guell: 13
I felt like I was under water, "Little Mermaid" style.

Park Guell: 14
Look at all that detail! I'm still in awe, as you can tell.

Park Guell: 15


A little music.
I don't know the name of this instrument, but when played properly, it is amazing and completely adds to the "underwater" feel.

Park Guell: 16
On the extremely long, curvy, colorful bench overlooking the park.

Park Guell: 17
The long, curvy, colorful bench itself.

Park Guell: 18
Plaza de Amazement. Named by me.

Multi-purpose.
A very clever use for an umbrella.




Park Guell: 19
From ceramic to stones.

Park Guell: 20


Park Guell: 21
I felt like I was in a dream. Maybe I was.

Snip-bits.
Pictures I coveted and wanted and would have bought, had they not cost 30 euro.

Park Guell: 22
Leaning.

Park Guell: 22, take 2.


Park Guell: 23
Dragon's tail?

A neat building.
No idea what it is, but I liked the looks of it.

Trolley time.
I felt like I was in an episode of Mr. Roger's taking the trolley up the hill to Mt. Tibidabo.

Hiking the foothills of Mt. Tibidabo.
I was with two girls who are crazy in love with "Friends." One episode, apparently, references Mt. Tibidabo. Therefore, we had to "hike the foothills of Mt. Tibidabo," just like in "Friends." So we did!

Mt. Tibidabo
The only official sign we could find that said where we were.

Foothills: 1
It wasn't the prettiest mountain, but I tried. It was nice to be surrounded by nature for a change. There's not much foliage around here.

Foothills: 2


Foothills: 3


Foothills: 4


Foothills: 5


FUTBOL!
The Barcelona soccer team's stadium, biggest in Europe.

Stadium again.


And again, just for kicks.


Old-timer.
The old school bus with creepy fake people in its seats.


I'm sure there was a purpose to it, but I just liked how it looked.

Futbol = Life.
In all of Spain/Europe. Ask anyone.

Scarves to show your dedication.
Who knew there were so many different styles for one team?

1992 Olympic Stadium
By this time, it was absolutely freezing cold and drizzling, so I apologize for the hasty, less-than-appealing photos which follow.

1992 Olympic Stadium: 2


1992 Olympic Stadium: 3


1992 Olympic Stadium: 4


Telecommunications tower.
Of course, even the communications towers here are designed by famous architects/artists. I forgot who, though.

La Basilica de San Vicente
Our first stop in Avila before going to get maps at the tourism office.

Lines.
I loved the shadows and lines of the plaza.

La cruz.
In the Plaza de San Vincente.

Shadow dancer.


La Catedral de Avila.
Construction on the Cathedral began in 1095 after the Reconquista of Spain by the Christians. The earliest parts modeled the Romanesque style and were built like a fortress into the city's wall.

Do not enter.
There were lots of lions surrounding the cathedral.

The great wall of Avila.
Avila's wall is the symbol of the city and one of the best kept, medieval walled enclosures in Europe. Its two and a half kilometer perimeter is marked by almost 2,500 crenellations, a hundred towers, six gates and three openings.

Another look.
The cathedral.

A peek at the peak.
The cathedral again. There were lots of nesting pelicans.

Iglesia de San Pedro.
Avila's main plaza and church.

Another view.
Opposite the cathedral are the Guadarrama mountains, which separate Avila from Madrid.

Hanging out on top.
I doubt I was supposed to climb up there, but it was too tempting not to.

Towering.
The wall was built with the arrival of the Romans in the third century B.C., making Avila a strategic point of defence. Following several centuries of decadence, the city was repopulated and rebuilt in the 11th century.

Taking turns.
Becca and I decided to be tourists this trip and take turns snapping photos of each other.

Under the arch, over the wall.
Another peek at St. Peter's church.

Brochure?
I just realized that every website I look at has this exact same picture of the cathedral. I should make postcards.

Touristy.
I took over this tower.

The other side.
Now we're on the northern side of the cathedral. It was a very sunny day, so the shadows were impeccable.

Flip side.
The other side of the cathedral.

Stay out.
A few of the 100 towers daring invaders to try and get in.

Not posed at all.
Jeff, Ben and Becca humored me by taking this picture. Thanks guys :)

10-second timer!
... this one, too.

Too convenient not to pose.
We let Jeff be the photographer for this round of posing.

Knock-knock.
A pretty sweet door knocker.

Testing.
Jeff had to give it a shot. It looked like the witch's hand from "Snow White" when she give her the apple.

Outside.
A large number of historically important buildings lie outside the city walls. A few include:

• the monastery of Encarnación, erected in the 16th century and where Santa Teresa lived as a nun for more than 20 years

• the Basilica of San Vicente, erected in the 12th century next to the site where three Saints were martyred during times of the Roman emperor Diocletianus

• the church of San Pedro, one of the oldest in Avila, dating back to the 12th and 13th centuries

Los cuatro postes
The "four posts" monument is in honor of Saint Teresa (1515-1582). Teresa was fascinated by the lives of the saints at a young age and ran away several times to seek martyrdom at the hands of the Moors. This monument on the hill above Ávila marks the spot where her father brought her back at the age of seven.

Panoramic.
The view of Avila from the four posts.

The plaza.
The main plaza in front of El Escorial.

El Escorial.


Let the sun shine in.


Dancing.
A few girls taking a break in the sun and having a miniature dance party.

Mixed.
A little gathering of pre-teens in the plaza. Note: all kids this age are the same around the world. I'd put money on it.

(Insert caption.)
I can't think of a clever enough caption for this, so I'm asking you to.

Things to note:

1. Kid pulling up his khakis
2. The boy with the ball looking like he's going to chuck it at someone's face
3. The other kid's comb-over
   

Tag!
This trio made a game out of hiding behind garbage cans and "tagging" Americans then running away. I thought it looked like a good time.

The hills are alive...
Different mountains (Guadarrama) but the idea's the same.

Inside the gates.
Another plaza.

King Philip II engaged the Spanish architect, Juan Bautista de Toledo, to be his collaborator in the design of El Escorial. In 1559, Philip appointed him architect-royal, and together they designed El Escorial as a monument to Spain's role as a center of the Christian world.





We weren't allowed to take pictures inside, so I had to use what I was given.

Six old guys.
Really, they're saints. But I think a funnier caption could be in store for this as well.


Same view, different angle.

Blue skies
Although the "giants" no longer spin, I can see how Miguel de Cervantes crafted his story for "Don Quixote" from these awkwardly majestic windmills.

A hut with style.
I'm still unsure why it was necessary to build the windmills like mini-dorms. Perhaps catching the wind is more difficult than I imagined.

Here's looking at you.
They seem stout from far away, but really are quite hefty.


I really wanted to see one in action. Ah well, some things are better off in one's imagination.

All in a row.
I'm quite curious as to what they used the windmills for. As far as I can see, they're not attached to anything to harness energy. Another imagination station question.

Peek-a-boo
The perfect exploring wall: climb above as well as through.

Giant key.
I pictured "Jack and the Beanstalk" here. This is the Giant's door, and this whole is the door knob for the key. Really, it's just a window of the castle built during the early years of the "Reconquista," when the Christians reclaimed Spain from the Muslams.

Oh, what a beautiful day.
The one word that continually comes to mind when I see this view: crisp.

Just a little guy.
The window from the top of one of the windmills showing off it's view of the others further off.

Ghost town.
The entrance to Plaza de Espana in Consuegra. Until now, we'd only seen a handful of people, probably because we invaded during siesta.

Vida
"Life"

Secret Garden
We spotted this garden on our way to the Cathedral.


The plaza we passed through on our way to the Cathedral.

Giralda Tower
Once part of a mosque, the tower began being constructed in 1184 and is still in tact today. It has almost 40 floors, and the view from the top is wonderful.

Oranges!
There are orange trees everywhere in Sevilla. It was one of my favorite things about the city.

Sky high
The tower again.

The Cathedral
Built on the site of a mosque, the "Catedral de Santa María de la Sede" is the third largest church in Europe and the largest Gothic building in Europe. It also boasts the largest altarpiece in the world.

Stike a pose
There were fun statues surrounding the cathedral to pose with.

Buggy ride
Horse drawn carriages are very popular in Sevilla. They are also very expensive.

Large.
The cathedral was completed in just over a century (1402-1506) and its total area covers 11,520 square meters.

Grand.
If measured by volume, the cathedral in Sevilla surpasses both St. Paul's cathedral in London and St. Peter's cathedral in Rome.

Tall.
The central nave rises to 42 meters and even the side chapels seem large enough to contain an ordinary church.

Altar de Plata






One of the side chapels.

Christopher Columbus
This monumental tomb was sculpted by Arturo Melida when Spain transferred Columbus' remains to Seville in 1902.


The tomb was designed in the Late Romantic style and is held aloft by four huge allegorial figures representing the kingdoms of León, Castile, Aragón and Navarra.


He was originally buried in the cathedral of Havana, on the island he had discovered on his first voyage in 1492.

THE altar.
The Capilla Mayor (the main chamber of the Cathedral) is dominated by an incredible Gothic altarpiece. It is considered the supreme masterpiece of the cathedral and was the life's work of a single craftsman, Fleming Pieter Dancart.


Composed of 45 carved scenes from the life of Christ, it is carved in wood and covered with staggering amounts of gold. It is the largest and richest altarpiece in the world.

Old.
The stained glass windows are from the 15th century.

Altar Mayor
It was all gold and absolutely breathtaking.




Cristo de la Clemencia.
Made in 1603.




View from the top.
View #1 from Giralda tower

#2
You can see the Plaza de Toros from this view (the bull ring).

#3


The bells.
There are over a dozen bells on top of the tower.

#4
You can see the plaza we walked through to get to the Cathedral.

#5


Plaza de Espana!
While walking through Maria Louisa park Friday afternoon, Taylor, myself and Becca found Plaza de Espana.

Fun fact:
Plaza de España has been used for some of the scenes of episode II of George Lucas' "STAR WARS: Attack of the clones."


In 1914, Spanish architect Aníbal Gonzalez started construction works for the Ibero-American Exposition of 1929, which partly took place inside María Luisa park. The new buildings of the Plaza de Espana which he constructed were used as the office for the fair.


The plaza has an artificial lake in its center and is flanked by two towers.


Gonzalez chose bricks as the main material to be used, in combination with tiles and marble columns.


The building's style today is called Sevillian Regionalism.


Each of these "nooks" contains a mosaic of a Spanish province. All provinces are represented.





During warmer months, the moat is filled with water and tourists can rent row boats.

Flamenco!
Dresses are sold in department stores.


They're a lot heavier than you'd think.


While walking along the river, we found a pirate ship. Why not?

Plaza de Toros de la Real Maestranza
Sevilla's bull ring

About the plaza
The ring was constructed over the late-17th and 18th centuries and is one of the most famous venues in all of Spain to take in a bullfight.

Also, the ring is oval in shape rather than a perfect circle.

Royalty
This is where the King and his family sit when they come to watch a bullfight.

Here comes the bull
The gate from which the bull enters the ring.


Sevilla's plaza is considered by many the best place to view a fight.


Possibly the last thing a bull will ever see: the gate to the ring.

Before fighting...
In the 18th century, the ring was host to jousting matches. But instead of men jousting against other men, they would prove their skill by putting the tip of their lance through this circle, which is approximately an inch in diameter.


The jousters would then have to crush this ceramic head with their lance.

Come one, come all!
An advertisement via 1863.


The 19th century room of the museum.

Little guy...
The outfit in the showcase was worn by one of the youngest matadors ever. He began his career around the age of 12 and died when he was 25.

The museum.
In the beginning of the 20th century, the Plaza de Toros was renovated by architect Aníbal Gonzalez (designer of the Plaza de España). Gonzalez also added several buildings around the main structure, including the Museo de la Real Maestranza de Sevilla. The Museum holds a number of posters, clothing and other items related to bullfighting in the city of Sevilla. Included among the exhibits is a cape painted by Picasso.

Wanna fight?
I couldn't handle myself in a ring with a bull, but I bet I could take this guy.

Columbus... again.
They really like this guy. Good thing they don't hear our version of the story...

Info
We walked a solid 7 hours on Saturday exploring.

El Palacio Real
The Royal Palace. Even though the King and Queen don't actually live here, the palace is still used for many events throughout the year.

La iglesia
This church was actually built quite recently. It is located directly across from the royal palace.

Lamp posts.
Every detail outside and inside the palace was immaculate. Each piece of furniture, cloth and architecture accentuated the grand building.

The courtyard.
Imagine this plaza in the 18th century filled with royal officials and celebrities gathered together from around Europe. There's so much history!

How large?
The palace is the largest in Western Europe. It has a combined area of over 135,000 m² and more than 2,800 rooms.

Where?
The palace is located on Bailén street, in the western part of downtown Madrid. The plaza spanning between the cathedral and the palace is named Plaza de Armas.


Myself, Molly, Anna, Taylor, Becca and Jenna.


Outside the cathedral gates.

Old and New.
The "old castle," built on this site in the 16th century, burnt down on Dec. 24, 1734. Then-King Philip V ordered that a new castle be built on the same site, which began a period of construction. The new palace, finished in 1764, was first occupied by Carlos III.

One plaza, two plaza, red plaza, blue.
The statues of Don Quijote and Sancho Panza beneath Cervantes monument in the Plaza de Espana.





Museo de Jamon.
Jenna, Molly, Taylor and Anna at lunch. The Fund organized for us to go to el Museo de Jamon. Kicker: it wasn't a museum and we were served fried chicken, not ham.

Musas Residence Hostel
Our 10-bed female room at Musas in Madrid, a short jaunt from Plaza del Sol and a do-able walk from the heart of the city.

Vacas!
Statues of cows sprinkled the sidewalks of Madrid. Even locals stopped to take pictures.

Adventures.
Saturday was the perfect day to go explore Madrid. The sun was shining especially for us.


Madrid doesn't really "wake up" until nighttime. This is a snapshot of the city at noon. By 7:30pm, the streets become so crowded that it's like being at the State Fair everywhere you go.

To the left, to the left.
Luckily, there are street maps all over Madrid. We used them frequently.







Mas vacas.
I enjoyed the "Lego" cow.

Details.
Even the lamp posts in Europe have class.

Playing tourist.
In front of the Centro de Comercios.


The inside of a gated park.

Welcome.
Puerta de Alcala is located on the longest -and most important- street in Madrid: Calle de Alcala.

My favorite cows.
Next to la Puerta de Alcala were my two favorite cow statues: a broadcast news reporter and a camera man. Naturally, being a journalist, I had to strike a few poses.


I think Mr. Cow here could have held his own during the RNC.

Peek.
The view from behind the gate.

Enlarged.
The whole scene.


Nicole, Molly, myself, Taylor, Anna, Becca, Jenna and Shannon posing with the "Pick us for the Olympics!" cow in front of la Puerta.

Rest.
The entrance to El Parque del Buen Retiro. 

Springtime.
The park has a central lake, numerous fountains and statues and walkways.



It consists of 12 hectares and originally formed part of the Palace of Buen Retiro, constructed in the 17th century by Philip IV.


Row, row, row your boat.
You can rent paddle boats and rowboats to enjoy.


The park comes alive during (warm) weekends, and many concerts and festivals are held there.



Whether you're looking to get a good run in or simply stroll in peace, the recreational options seem to be endless here.

Leaving old Toledo.
This is the street the buses take into and out of "old" Toledo: the city inside the wall.

"Will you take a picture?"
Jenna, myself, Molly and Taylor asked a couple we saw taking pictures to take one of us as well. They were very nice and ended up taking two :)

Meat, bread and sweets.
These all-in-one little shops are everywhere around Toledo. Every day, locals buy fresh bread. In most houses, you'll also find a pig's leg, which is where they get the ham they eat at almost every meal. Most Spaniards also have quite the sweet tooth, so you'll find lots of Marzapan (almond sugar candies) and chocolate bon-bons everywhere.

Where to go, what to do.
Parking spots, Santa Cruz museum, the Alcazar, the main plaza: Zocodover and Santiago Arrabal church.

Flip side.
The other picture the couple took for us.

Looking in.
Centuries ago, the Romans built this wall to protect Toledo against invasions from the North, the only direction the city is able to be conquered from due to its location on the hill.

The Romans were here.
The Romans are known for building arches. Here, it serves as an entry point to the city. Other places they're seen in Toledo are the bridges.

Down to the river.
Another view looking in on Toledo.

The valley.
Looking down into the river valley.

Sitting pretty.
Molly, myself and Taylor posing for a quick photo.

Smile check.
Molly isn't too good at posed smiles, so she wanted to make sure she looked cute. She did.

El parque.
This is where the market is held every Tuesday.




El futbol!
Some locals playing soccer (futbol).

Setting.
A peek at the sunset from the park.

Una casa?
A random house. With a satellite dish. And trailer.




Private parking.
A motorcycle tucked into the bushes next to the "house."

Quiero la primavera!
I want spring to come so that this park will be in full blossom and live music will be played on this gazebo. Hopefully.

Where to?
With the setting sun, we had to decide where we wanted to go next. We ended up wandering.

The park...
...inside the park.

Secret garden.
While wandering, we saw a quaint hostel with a very nice garden.





Fascism kills omitting no one and forgiving no one.

Toledo.
...not Ohio.

Fairytale?
We decided this is what a city in a fairytale looks like.

El rio.
Once the weather warms up, we're going to be picnicking here... often.




Toda la ciudad.
Pretty much the whole city. Some of the houses on this side of the river were breathtaking! I can't imagine how wealthy those people must be.

Still sleepy.
Since we're still catching up from a long day of travel and not a ton of sleep, Nicole and I were still a bit sleepy. But no matter; we're in Spain!

Almost..
Ben was playing with the camera while we prepared to take a picture.

Mucho mejor!
Some of the wonderful girls I've met so far!

Dream land...
...again.

Long nights turn into longer days.
Molly looks good after staying out until 7am! We're going to go for two nights in a row :)

Roman bridges (not) falling down.
This bridge is gorgeous. Much prettier than the stone arch (sorry Minneapolis folk!)





I keep imagining how beautiful this will be come spring.




Magnifico.
When it gets warmer, I definitely want to explore and take a walk across this bridge.




With.. cancer?
This caught my eye: Con-cancer written like Coca-cola. And Mary Poppins. Not sure.


They pack the streets with cars, parked on both sides facing whichever way they please.

IMG_0355.JPG
IMG_0355.JPG 2009-01-16

Church turned...
... museum.

Confession:
I love the lamps. For some reason, I find them very aesthetically pleasing and take a lot of pictures of them.




La plaza.
An interesting design decorating the floor of the plaza.


...street lamps.


A couple probably wondering why a group of tourists were here already in January.


Another impromptu parking lot.

Llamamos.
"We call." But it appeared they were closed.


We're all trying to catch on to the European styles. No tennis shoes; boots.


Another street.

Estoy tocando?
Taylor trying to touch both sides of the street.

Tucked in.
An impromptu outdoor garage.


We looked like a mob, especially in the small alley-like streets. And this was only 1/3 of our group!

Survivors.
The plants here are hardcore... it's been cold in Spain, yet there are flowers and plants in most windows.

Tidying up.
Sweeping away all the grime from the streets.

Hace sol!
The sunshine was a blessing today.

Another.
Lamp.

Y mas...
lamaparas, claro.

Gates.



This was a very dark and narrow passage, but I love how the lamps appear to be floating on the other side.

Decor.
A randomly advertisement-ridden door.





I love Spain.


This woman was stylin'.


Making a stop at el zapatero, the shoemaker.

Strolling.
I love all the scarves.

Fiesta!
I gotta get me one of those.

Amigos.
I'd like to think that these men are old friends who meet every afternoon in the plaza in front of the cathedral to talk politics and discuss life.


Hopefully I'll become comfortable enough with my Spanish in a month or so to be able to talk with the people who live here more. I'd love to know their stories and take pictures attempting to capture their personalities.

The cathedral.






It's too big to capture with my little point-and-shoot Canon.

The front again.
There's so much detail! It's amazing.

Otros amigos.
Check out their caps.

Joined by another.
This is my favorite photograph of the day.


Our tour guide.


Street musician jamming on the didgeridoo!

Chispe!
This is my family's dog, Chispe. According to Ahmad, he's like a miniature Chewbacka. :)

Jugamos.
We play... a lot. He doesn't mind my broken Spanish.

Que?
He acts innocent, but he's not.

Mascando su juguete.
Chewing his toy... every time it squeaks, he jumps :)

My gate.
This is the entrance to my house. First, you unlock the gate. Then you unlock the door. You have to unlock the gate to get out, too.

Casa 8.
My house. It's four-stories (with the basement) and always extremely clean. My host mom cleans every morning. She's the ultimate homemaker.

Ocho.
I love all the colorful tiles they use. Each house has a different style adorning their steps.


The sidewalk in front of my house.


The street in front of my house.

Luggage.
Luckily, it all arrived safely in Atlanta and also continued to make the trip to Madrid with us!

So long, snow.
It was just after taking off from Minneapolis that it finally hit me what I was about to be doing the next 5 months.

Sit. Stay.
The flight to Atlanta went smoothly, but there was a lot of turbulence going to Madrid.

Squeeze!


Hasta 5 meses!
The next time I see this will be May 20.

Floating.
The clouds were making patterns in the mid-afternoon sky on the way to Atlanta.

Sunrise.
After a long 7-hour flight to Madrid, we received an amazing gift: sunrise over a valley of clouds. Que bonita!

Una calle corta.
The streets in Toledo are all narrow, short and deceptive. It was our first time exploring, so I took a picture of the street we needed to return to in case we got lost.

Feliz Navidad!
Because of the narrow streets, Christmas lights are able to be hung between buildings. My mom, Conchi, said that in Spain, they celebrate Christmas from Dec. 24-Jan 1, which is why the lights are still up.

Pots n' Pans
A unique decoration.

Arboles.
A string of Christmas trees (arboles de navidad).

You pick.
An impromptu parking lot. Walking around Toledo, you have to keep your eyes and ears alert at all times. With narrow streets and speedy drivers, you'll almost always end up hugging a wall to avoid being hit.

The "Big" Cousins
Mark, Tiffany, Ariel, Hilary and Jodi (and myself) now qualify as the "big" cousins.

The Birthday Girl and Boy!
Janine and Grandpa share a birthday... how convenient!

Mr. Mohawk
Malachi next to his favorite treat: angel food cake

Drama
Even though he's the oldest of three, he still has a touch of "middle child syndrome" with his love for attention.

Announcement!
We're a loud bunch, and there's always something to be said.

Oh boy.
He's ready for his cake (chocolate, his favorite!)

Cheese!
Posing with their cakes: classic.

Grin and bear it
The boys are getting very good at their "say cheese" smiles.

Mom's little helper
Josiah's always eager to help when needed. What a trooper.

Trapped!
Grandma's new favorite commercial is the one where all the people are "trapped" inside the digital camera and get deleted when there's no more room.

Hard core.
Mom uses the electric bread knife to swiftly slice the angel food cake. How efficient of her.

Zip!
What a nice, clean slice.

Sprinkles galore.
Hilary did an excellent job decorating Grandpa's cake.

"You talkin' to me?"
Josiah's signature catch-phrase a few years ago.

That one!
The youngest of three, Elijah knows precisely what he wants and how to get it.

Case...
...in point.

Skinny.
Mark loading his plate with sweets... how he stays so thin will always be a mystery.

Going, going...
With 22 of us, I'm not sure how any cake managed to remain uneaten. Then again, uncle Clark was absent and Dad couldn't eat. Maybe that did the trick.

Stacks.
And with 22 of us, there's always a fun amount of dishes to do. Hooray.

Upon stacks.
Lovely.

Scrape it up!
Polishing off his cake.

Claps and hugs
Two things we do very well in our family: clap and hug. Ariel had to catch her plane back to Louisville, Kentucky, so we all said our goodbyes.

Sisters.
Such love.

Cozy.
Dessert and coffee. Splendid.


Jodi and Grandma sharing a moment.


Mom soaking up the company and conversation.

Present time!
Janine and her cute penguin bag.

Content.
Grandpa unwrapping one of his gifts.


Like mother like son.

Gifts.


The Buffet.
Mom changes the buffet every season. Here's the Christmas decor.

Game time.
A few of the cousins playing Monopoly while the rest of the family watches the Vikings lose to the Eagles.

Grandpa's turn!
Opening presents while watching the game.





Elijah's card to Grandpa.

Snug as a bug.
The oldest daughter snuggled between her mom and dad.


Elijah is the master of facial expressions. He's very entertaining.


Helping Grandpa eat part of his present.

To share or not to share.



Janine and her boys warming up by the fireplace.


The boys fixated on the game.




Silly.
Again, master of expressions.








Josiah may be the only 7-year-old I know who can play an entire game of Monopoly.


Emily looking a bit bored with the game.

Lounging.
Janine, Elijah and Dad kicking back for a bit.


Grandpa decided to start cheering for the Eagles after they scored another touchdown in the fourth quarter.

Amusing.
Corinne and Hilary didn't care for the football game much and decided to make their own entertainment. Corinne did this by seeing what would happen if she rocked all the way back in her chair. As you can see, it wasn't pretty (but it WAS funny!)

After game show.
Malachi took a liking to Mark's old Nerf gun.

(2)
When Corinne saw him with it, she got the bright idea to have him see how close he could shoot a dart to her head.

(3)
Malachi thoroughly enjoyed this idea, and took her suggestion to heart. Luckily for her, his aim is pretty darn good.


Elijah went to see how she was doing after her "near death" experience.


Malachi reloading his gun.





Don't be deceived by the mohawk... this boy is a sweetheart.




Bonding.
Hilary and Elijah bonding with the "Rock Band" drum set.


Collecting his darts.




Straight shooter.






Elijah doesn't enjoy sitting still, but he loves the camera.


...like I said.

Packed.
My closet is stuffed full right now. I have no idea what to pack for Spain. Typical "I have nothing to wear" syndrome.

Credentials.
I was sitting on my bed while playing with my camera. These are hanging off the lamp next to my head.

Reflecting.
I don't think I've ever had a clean dresser. Here's just one little corner of it.

Balls.
Oh softball. It dominated my life for 11 years. Now it's been reduced to dominating my dresser.

Worn.


Glow.
Seeing how my camera does at night. Not too shabby a photo for being taken in the dark as well as through a window.

We left Filippo's house around 10:15 to make our way to the train station. It wasn't the same one we'd arrived at, and we were thankful that Filippo told us to double check before leaving. When we got there, we were still hesitant about not having a printed ticket or reservation sheet, so we went to stand in the ticket line to reaffirm what the other woman had told us. As the minutes drug on (and on and on) and our time for departure drew ever closer, we started getting antsy. When we finally got to the ticket window and asked our question, the woman simply gave us a blank stare and said, "You have what you need. NEXT!" So, 20 wasted minutes later, we made our way to the train heading to Venice, hopped on (and discovered there were no seat numbers, hence the no-additional-tickets-needed policy) and got comfortable.

The train ride to Venice was very pretty. We passed through Verona and Padova, which made me think of Shakespeare's plays and daydream a bit about being in the same region that inspired such an amazing writer. We arrived in Venice around 3:00pm to gorgeous weather. I had printed off directions for getting from the train station to the "hostel" (a camp ground with trailers as rooms) so we lugged our backpacks to the bus station to get tickets, go to our hostel, drop the beasts off, and head back into Venice.

Part one of that plan went swimmingly. We found the bus station and bought the right tickets with ease. While waiting for the bus, we met up with a few girls we'd gone to school with in Toledo who also happened to be in Venice and staying at the same hostel while we were there. However, when it came time to get on the bus, they realized they hadn't bought tickets yet, and had to go do that and catch a later bus.

Part two of the plan: get to the hostel. Not so simple. I'd read that the site of our hostel was tricky to find, and that we should keep an eye out for signs. So, as the bus went further from Venice, I kept my eyes peeled for anything resembling "Camping della Serenisimma," the name of the hostel. Because I was looking for any of those words, the minute I saw a sign with "Serenisimma" on it, I assumed it was time to stop and pushed the button. We hopped off the bus in front of a cute little hostel, thinking that was it. Wrong. We got inside, rand the bell (which no body heard or cared to answer) and then stepped into the restaurant area to ask if we were in the right place.

The first person we encountered was a man who spoke no English, so he went and got a woman to help us. When we asked her about the hostel, she shook her head, turned to the man, translated our question and got an answer for us: Camping della Serenisimma was a kilometer down the road. Crap.

While debating between walking the kilometer with all our stuff (as we'd done in Greece) and waiting for the next bus, we helped ourselves to some refreshments (coffee for me, milk for Laura). Then Laura, being the ever-outgoing girl she is, decided it would be a great idea to hitchhike. The first few minutes were unsuccessful, and everyone just drove past us smiling and laughing. Then, a random group of people came out of the woods across the street from us. They saw us waving down cars and, after a bit, came over and asked us where we needed to go. Heather told them, and they said, "Okay. We take you." just like that. Even though I wasn't sure about it, I got caught up in Laura's enthusiasm and joined her in the care with these two men, a Russian 27-year-old and a Georgian 38-year-old.

We soon found out that the older guy spoke no English. He also "fell in love" with me after about a minute, and made his friend translate his love and attraction to me, making all of us (okay, maybe just me) very uncomfortable. By now, Laura was on a roll, because instead of just having the guys drop us at the hostel, she heard mention of ice cream and decided that's what we should do: have them take us to get ice cream. So, without a moments hesitation, the car is suddenly jerked into a U-turn and we're heading back into Venice's city center. Off we went, with "Georgia" telling me he's going to marry me and Vladamir (the Russian) blasting hip-hop/ techno music.

Once we got into city center, we went to a cafe that claimed to have gelato, but when we asked for some, the waiter told us that they did not, in fact, have any. So, instead of ice cream, I got an espresso, Laura had peach juice and the four of us sat there awkwardly as Vladamir whined about how bad his English had gotten, "Georgia" kept telling me he loved me (and tried to take my sunglasses off and became obsessed with my hands) and we sat there tiredly. To our joy, the table next to ours had an adorable black lab puppy with them, so Laura and I played with is as a way to pass the time and avoid the guys' suggestions that we go out later that night. Finally, I managed to look annoyed enough that they agreed to take us back to the hostel. "Georgia" stayed in Venice, not too happy with being constantly rejected by me, and Vladamir took us back.

It was 7pm when we finally got to the hostel, and we'd had enough "excitement" for one day. We bought some wine, crackers and olives and decided to spend the night playing Rummy 500 on our plastic lawn furniture outside our trailer. Very classy. Soon, one bottle of wine turned into 3 bottles, and one jar of olives became 2 (plus cookies), and by the time it was dark, we'd given up on cards and just started to talk. It was a good thing the trailers next to us weren't occupied, because the later it got, the louder we got, until finally around midnight, we passed out sound asleep in our beds.

It seems to be sunny, and I hope it stays that way. Today is "conquer Milan" day. Crossing my fingers there's an opening to see "The Last Supper." Apparently you have to make reservations, so we'll see!

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Unfortunately, we did not make it to see "The Last Supper" today. However, that does not mean the day was wasted! First, we stopped to get some espresso and tea (which they completely ripped us off on by making us sit down, which added 3 euro) and then the bread shop for breakfast. I got a roll with mixed fruit and nuts... it was yummy. While munching, we made our way to the Cathedral. BEAUTIFUL! It's my favorite church so far, out of all the cathedrals I've seen in my life. It truly is incredible: it's gigantic with huge, Gothic peaks in a gorgeous white marble. Really amazing.

After gawking and taking photographs of the Cathedral, we went inside the glass-domed ceiling Galleria, home of Gucci, Louis Vitton, Prada, Armani and their other friends. To entertain ourselves (all day), we went inside all the ridiculously ritzy stores as if we owned the place, asking questions about purses and scarves, boots and glasses, like we could afford to actually make a purchase. We tried on sunglasses, held and admired purses, and eyed shoes (too scared to actually try them on), constantly talking about which accessory would go best with that dress we'd just bought. Laura started throwing around the phrase, "Oh well, it's just my daddy's credit card," which may have worked, because in Gucci, one of the clerks gave us his business card so that "when we made a purchase" he would get the commission. He was such a nice guy, I almost feel bad for wasting his time. Even though I'm sure we looked completely ridiculous and transparently fake, we had a great time.

Following our "shopping" excursion, we hunted for a sandwich shop that had been raved about as serving "delicious, chunky sandwiches" in my travel book. I love me a good sandwich (especially chunky ones), so the search was on. It took us far longer than it should have to find this place, the discovery taking place after we resorted to using the map when we found we'd been walking in circles. Unfortunately, the end result to all our hard work was rather fruitless. The sandwiches were far from chunky, and ended up being just like every other Italian sandwich: meat and lettuce on toasted flat bread. Still decent, but not chunky.

Since lunch hadn't satisfied our craving for something extraordinarily good, we embarked on, and succeeded, a gelato mission. Not only did we find what appeared to be the largest, most popular gelateria in Milan's city center, but we discovered the Queen/King/Emperor/Ruler/Dominator of all gelato flavors: CINNAMON. It tasted like cookie dough and had the creamiest, smoothest, most satisfying consistency known to the human tongue. Coupled between tiramisu and pistachio, it was heaven. To top it off, we found a sunny spot to sit while eating next to a fountain, plopped ourselves down and licked away. Sun + Cinnamon gelato + nothing to do = glorious.

Loving the sunshine and warmth, we followed the sun to the cathedral steps to continue enjoying our relaxed afternoon. When we had finally had our quota of people watching and were sufficiently sweaty, we went "real" shopping at a cute store similar to H&M and Bershka. Knowing we didn't have enough room in our backpacks to buy many things, we played dress-up for quite a while (on each of the four levels), picked our favorite item of the bunch and moved on. We dawdled on our way back to Filippo's, stopping at the bread store yet again for the following day's breakfast and a grocery store for Venice supplies. 11:30am tomorrow we'll be on a train to Venice! Day 5, over.

On the train to Milan now! We left the hostel at 7:15 this morning to catch the bus and get to the train station in time for our 8:30 train. We got there at 7:30 instead... my fault, but I prefer being an hour early to running and hoping we make it in time (flashback to the airport Sunday morning...). We went and hung out at the McDonalds (classy!) to wait for our train, me with my 0.80 euro coffee and some biscotti/scone from yesterday and Laura with a McMuffin (which, according to her, did not taste as good as in America). It was a nice way to start the morning.

Now we're sitting in car 8, seats 31 and 32. It's one of those trains with separate, 6-seats-per-compartment cars. We're with a couple who seem to be around our age, a woman who appears to be a few years older than us and a woman who's middle-aged tapping away at a laptop. The sun is shining, our moods are bright and we aren't too tired. This should be a good day! Shout out to God: THANK YOU! - for your protection, guidance and provision. You are amazing.

-SIDE NOTE- The Italian word for "here" is "qui." When I saw that, my first thought was, "What a dumb word for "here." It's incomplete and makes no sense." Then I realized the Spanish word for "here" is "aqui"... not much different, yet seemingly "normal" to me. Just goes to show that what seems normal is completely subject to your experiences and prior knowledge.

---

We made it to Milan around 12:00 and then headed down to the ticket office to figure out details for our train to Venice. The woman working said all we had to do was come at 7:35 on May 1, get on the train and that was that. No reservation (like we'd had for the previous two trains), no printed tickets, just our Eurail booklet and passports. We're still skeptical of the whole thing, but we'll have to wait until Friday to figure it out for sure.

Right now we're sitting (well, I'm sitting, Laura is sleeping) in the plaza inside Caetello Sforzesco, which I'm assuming is an old castle (shocker). We stopped at a small bread shop/bakery for some olive and tomato bread, as well as a sunflower seed, multi-grain roll (lunch) before finding this place, and are now relaxing until it's time to call/meet up with Filipo (our couch surfing host) and settle in for tomorrow.

Sometimes I'm still surprised that I'm okay with this whole couch surfing business. Everyone knows I'm no good at small talk or being very open with others, and yet here I am, trusting a complete stranger to house me. It's only my second time, but by the end of the trip I'll have 5 experiences under my belt (Athens, Milan, Prague, Munich and Brussels). Hopefully all goes well.

There isn't much in Milan, and neither Laura or I can remember why exactly we chose to come here. But here we are, with a free place to stay and a day-and-a-half to explore. At the very least, it will be a chance to rest before the crazy part of our trip starts. The crazy part= over-night train to Vienna and on. We decided that equals the crazy part because from there we will be arriving and jumping into touring of cities the same day.

For example, Vienna: arrive at 8:30am, check into our hostel and start sightseeing. Same with Prague, Berlin, Munich, Frankfurt (if it even works to spend much time there... I just read the airport is a 2-hour bus ride from the train station). We'll have a full two days in Brussels and Stockholm. Ireland is a bit tricky. We land at 9pm in Dublin and want to take the bus to Cork that night to stay with Joe at his apartment. Hopefully it works. Either way, we're off and running! Well, walking at least. :)

---

After Laura work up from her nap on the stone bench (she slept for an hour! It amazed us both.) it started to sprinkle. When we looked up, a giant black raincloud was heading our way, so we packed up, strapped up and headed toward shelter. Just as it started to rain harder, we spotted a cafe and made it inside just before the thunder. Each of us ordered some tea and cozied up in a cushioned corner of the small cafe. When we'd been sitting a while, we pulled out the deck of cards we'd brought and started a game of "War." By then, it was thunderstorming, so we got comfortable and kept playing.

Following "War" was Rummy 500, which we adapted to both our sets of rules that each of us had learned to play by. While playing, a group of three elderly people, two well-dressed men and a beautiful woman, came in and sat in the corner down the row from us. They had a laptop with them, but at first they were just chatting. Then a photographer came in, said something to the group and began taking their picture. This chain of events intrigued us, so we kept "secretly" watching. Then they opened their laptop and began watching a movie, or something of the sort, while analyzing it. They photographer kept clicking away, but they didn't seem to notice. Laura and I began guessing what the group did for work. I thought perhaps they were movie critics or directors; she guessed advertisement analysts. We never found out, because shortly after the clip ended, the trio packed up and left.

Laura and I did the same after receiving a text from Filippo saying hew as heading home from work and would meet us there around 7:00. We weren't sure what to expect food-wise, so we stopped in a cafeteria before going to his house. Our waiter, a man in his 40's who claimed his Italian name translated into English was "Happy," fell in love with Laura and began to follow her around... literally. When she went to the bathroom, he went downstairs to wait and take a picture with her. When we asked for the check, he told us we needed to come back the next day for free gelato. After we left, he followed us for three blocks (unknowingly to us, at first) to say goodbye to Laura, hugging her repeatedly because she'd left without saying goodbye. Kind of creepy, if you ask me.

Following some map difficulties (what else is new) we found Filippo's apartment. It was GORGEOUS. Very spacious and airy; he said his grandmother left it for him when she passed away. When he asked us if we'd eaten ("I hope you haven't had dinner yet!"), we lied and said we hadn't. He was happy to hear this, because he'd planned a meal for us: pasta with onion, eggplant and tomato (yum!) While eating, we talked about his new hobby - parachuting - and got to know each other. Then we settled on watching a movie - "Hitman"... dumb movie - before going to bed.

While traveling after classes were over, I kept a journal instead of my blog because I didn't have constant access to a computer or the internet. The next entries will be copies of my journal, capturing what Laura Sievert, my travel partner, and I experienced in each of the destinations we visited. This is a long time coming, and I apologize for my tardiness, but better late than never! Here we go...

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It's good be be back. After 5 years, I love Florence just as much as I did when I first came. There's just something about the city that works for me. It reminds me of Minneapolis: classy yet approachable. Laura said something that really clicked with me today. She said, "Cities are like dates, everyone has their own reason for why they choose to like different types." It's so true. You can't always put into words why exactly you like the person you're on a date with versus one you've been out with before but just didn't "click" with (whatever that means), and it's the same with a city. Even with the chilly weather and drizzle, I still love Florence for all it's worth.

However, there's one big reason why I'm getting very ready to leave Italy (I never thought I would be saying that...) -- the men. I am sick of being looked at like an object in a way that makes me sick. Why the men here (and in Greece and Spain) think they have some free pass for being creeps beats me. Staring at me while licking your lips and whispering, "I want..." as I pass you does nothing but disgust me, mister. No wonder men live at home until their 30's and 40's here, they are so immature in every way that women won't marry them. I can't wait to get to Vienna, Prague, Germany, etc. where men are either too shy, stubborn, polite, ________ to do anything but perhaps catch my eye and move on.

Besides that one downside (and the weather), Florence is wonderful. The first night (Sunday the 26th) Laura and I walked to the Duomo. I showed her the bronze doors, we took some great night pictures (the sky was fantastic) and then went to Grom for extra-dark chocolate + hazelnut + nougat gelato. Yum. Around 9:00pm we made our way back to the hostel for some dinner (pasta with egg and canadian bacon) and chatted with the other people staying there.

Small world moment: I met a guy who goes to St. Olaf and is good friends with Jenny Kramm, a girl I was good friends with in high school. He's been studying at Oxford University for the semester and is taking a few weeks to travel before heading home for the summer, where he'll be working at a Bible camp in Montana. Very cool.

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Our second day in Florence (Monday, April 27), we took a day trip to Pisa. We caught the 9:57 train, got there around 11:00 and made an afternoon of it. While making our way to the leaning tower, we stopped at a mini-outdoor food market and ended up discovering the best treat/lunch/snack ever: sourdough bread rolled and baked around green olives (green ITALIAN olives... incredible). It was moist, salty, chewy, cheap, filling and delicious. Great lunch.

When we got to the tower, we took our dutiful tourist pictures (holding up the tower, pretending it's falling on us, etc.) and then wandered back to the train station to catch the 2:30pm train. After all, we still had lots of Florence to explore!

Back in Florence we wandered away from the main part of town, got relatively lost (we're no good with maps...) but eventually found the river, meaning we could find the rest of our destinations by following it back. Walking slowly across the "Golden Bridge" (it used to be a fish and meat market way back when, but the king didn't like walking across a smelly bridge and demanded it be used solely for the purpose of selling jewelry, which is still it's use today), we oogled all the fancy, sparkling jewelry like the men had been oogling us all day. We stopped to pick out our favorites a few times, sighed and then continued on our way. Eventually, we made it across the bridge and to a wine bar I'd read about before leaving, called Sei Divino.

We ordered some white wine and salads, and waited the rain out while talking and getting to know each other better. An hour or so into the conversation, we found ourselves having the all-important "here's what bothers me" talk, where we discussed the things we like, dislike are indifferent about, are annoyed by, etc. in other people. Since we'd only traveled together once before (to Greece) and hadn't had any classes together, this was a crucial conversation where we were able to figure out how the rest of our three-week excursion would go. Luckily, we realized we see eye-to-eye on just about everything, which made us both quite happy. It wasn't until the waiter brought our check  (and a few complimentary drinks... it's not all bad being a woman in Italy!) that we realized the time and started back to the hostel. By then, the rain had stopped, so we were able to once again enjoy Florence at night.

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Day three (Tuesday, April 28) was completely dedicated to Florence. We slept in a bit and got going around 10am. The hostel we stayed at was amazing and served us hot breakfast (toast, eggs, coffee), so that started the day off well. Something a little out of the ordinary: that morning when I checked my e-mail, I was surprised to see two different internship-related requests. One was from a man named Leif who works for Lonely Planet. Jason DeRusha had sent me an e-mail the night before about Leif looking for an intern to help him research, copy-edit and organize information for his trips, all of which are right up my alley of interests. Of course I started drooling immediately and e-mailed Leif as soon as I could.

The two e-mails I got back from Leif went something like this: (1) "I'm sorry, but even though you qualify perfectly for this job, I need someone now and your best trait - the fact that  you're currently traveling - is also the biggest downfall right now. (2) Even though I just said no, I want to see what you're made of, so I'm going to give you a quiz: Find me the cheapest flight through Delta/Northwest round-trip from MSP to Romania for under $1,400 and that doesn't leave before 9am.

Of course I can't pass up a chance to prove how perfect I would be for the job (and in the process hopefully persuade him to change his mind despite my current absence from the USA), so I dove right in, searching multiple budget-flight Web sites to find him his perfect match. I came up with 2 flight options through Delta and Northwest for less-than $1,100 as well as one option through a Polish airline that was only $800. After organizing them into a neat, easy-to-read format (never hurts to suck up a little bit), I e-mailed them to him and crossed my fingers that it would be enough to convince him to reconsider.

The other internship-related e-mail was for METRO magazine. I responded with the date I would be back, saying I'd love to meet for an interview. I just love how all this had to happen while I was living out of a backpack and country-hopping for 3 weeks. Gotta love that timing!

Anyway, back to Florence. Laura and my first stop was to see the original David statue. We weren't sure which museum he was in, so we went into one to ask if David was there. First, the lady at the desk said yes. Then we were transferred to a man who sold us the tickets and followed up by saying that no, the David was not there. Confused, we asked for a refund (which greatly annoyed both of them, even though they'd just lied to us), got our money back and left.

The next museum we tried also wasn't the home of David, but the men working kindly told us where we could find him and pointed us in the right direction. Finally, we found the line to the correct museum and, after waiting 15-20 minutes, saw him. Michaelangelo's David truly is incredible. The detail is spectacular, there are even veins carved into his arms and hands. I snuck a few illegal pictures and then we were on our way.

Following our David adventures was the MARKET! It was like heaven. So many beautiful purses, rings, scarves... everything I love. I bought an incredible pashmina (turquoise, orange and green), and INCREDIBLE dark-brown leather purse with an adjustable strap (gorgeous and as soft as butter), a wallet for my brother's 18th birthday and a tie for my dad (100% silk, made in Florence). I could have stayed there all day, but our hunger got in the way of shopping.

As directed by a woman working at the food portion of the market, we went to lunch at Trattoria Mario, one of Florence's most well-known and best-priced restaurants. There was a long line, but since seating is communal (multiple pairs of people at the same tables), we didn't have to wait too long. I ordered the vegetable "soup," which had the texture of a mashed up dumpling - very thick and very good! - and Laura got the pasta with meat sauce, which was also stellar. We ordered ourselves a 1/2 liter of Chianti red wine (which we shared with the other women seated with us) and some bread. The total cost was only 7.50 euro each, not bad at all.

After lunch, we continued meandering about Florence, bought some biscotti/scone things and had a cup of coffee (cup= shot, coffee= espresso, but it cost the same as a large coffee from Caribou back in the States... boo). After our break, we headed across town back to the Duomo to see it during the day as well as to recreate a photograph I'd taken in 10th grade on the steps. Once we'd accomplished that, we made our way to the other side of the river to attempt to find the amazing gardens Lorenzo, the man who ran our hostel, had told us about. We found them after a lot of walking (during which we discovered a giant lips statue) but it cost 10 euro to get in, so we decided that was a no-go.

Instead, we went and sat on the ledge of the wall next to the river and relaxed while people watching. A couple from Nigeria randomly approached us and asked if we were afraid of falling. We told them we weren't, to which they responded by asking if we knew how to swim. At that point, Laura and I got a bit nervous, an image of them pushing us in for kicks popping into our heads. We told them that yes, indeed, we knew how to swim, but weren't exactly planning on it. Then we sat there for a bit, making an awkward pause long enough for them to leave.

Once we realized the weather may not hold, we decided to hike up to Piaza Michaelangelo to see a view of Florence. It was beautiful, the dark-purple thunderclouds highlighting the old buildings and making the river glow mysteriously. It started to sprinkle then, so we walked back down across the river, got some more gelato (nutella + mousse vanilla cake + chocolate w/ hazelnut + pistaccio) and walked (in the now pouring rain) back to the hostel. Since we had an early train to catch the next day, we called it a night, prayed for the rain to stop, and went to bed.

I cannot believe it's May 19th already, and that I am writing this from my desk at home in Toledo. Or that it's 30 degrees Celsius here, and I actually know that means it's upper 70's-80's. I'm a quick learner (not).

While I'd love to update you on absolutely everything that has happened the past three weeks, I just don't have the time or energy right now. However, I will be home tomorrow night (oh goodness) and have a week to copy my journal onto this page for all you lovely people to read, if you so choose. I'll also upload the best of my pictures, which usually tell a better story than I'm able to.

Like I said, I am in awe at how quickly time has gone yet how I feel like it's been such a long time. The day I understand how that works is the day I solve all the mysteries to this crazy world. I'll keep you posted.

Hello hello! Sorry I have not been able to update. We are currently in Milan and spent the entire (sunny!) day shopping and sightseeing. It is a beautiful city, but expensive with not too much to do. I cannot do a full update right now since I am sharing the computer with Laura, who needs to work out details for the last leg of her trip, but I am keeping a journal and will put it all online for you to read when I am able to. Just know that we are safe and having fun so far! We are not too tired yet, but we will see how long that lasts... :)

Bueno, the day has arrived. I can't say "at last" because that would imply time has gone by slowly, and that is simply not the case. Instead, it (time) has managed to compartmentalize itself into what feels like one month instead of three. It has folded over itself, layering each moment of each day, tucking them away and melding into what appears to be one tidily folded blanket, when really it's an intricate quilt that took days to create and will take even more time to fully understand and appreciate. Time is the master of mind games, and seems to enjoy playing with me.

Enough with the metaphors (it means I'm either (a) tired (b) floating somewhere between sad and excited (c) all of the above). Tomorrow morning at 8am, Laura and I will be on a bus to Madrid to catch our 11:30 flight to Milan, where we will take the train to Florence and settle into ITALY! From there, our schedule is as follows:
April 26-28: Florence
April 29-30: Milan
May 1-2: Venice
May 3-4: Vienna
May 5-6: Prague
May 7-8: Berlin
May 9-10: Munich
May 11: Frankfurt
May 11-13: Brussels
May 13-16: Stockholm
May 16-18: Ireland (hopefully Cork and Dublin)
May 19: Fly back to Madrid.
May 20: Fly home!

I don't know how much internet access I'll have while traveling (I'm not bringing my laptop), but I'll try to keep updating the blog as I go. Otherwise you'll just have to wait until I'm home to hear all my stories and see all the pictures!

Please keep us in your prayers!

...and we're off!

My aunt, uncle and cousin came over last night to say goodbye. I'm bad enough with goodbye's when I have the chance to see someone again, but I'm way worse when there's a strong probability this will be the last time I see them. It flustered me, made me want to detach yet fully attach myself to the moment at the same time, and left me with a fake smile not knowing the right Spanish words to express how much I'll truly miss them. I'm going to be a mess saying goodbye to my family.

It's my little brother's birthday today! He's 18... how did that happen? Anyway, HAPPY BIRTHDAY, MARK! I love you SO much and can't wait to give you the best sister-hug EVER in 27 days!

What a week. Before I came to Spain, several individuals told me, using their "own words," that I would be experiencing am "emotional roller coaster" the week before leaving Spain. This is simply not true, however. A roller coaster implies that at a given moment I would be elated, in the happiest state of being I could be, and the next moment I could come crashing down, my stomach suddenly twisting into a tight, nervous knot that leaves me wanting to cry or rock myself in the fetal position. Nope. Now, is it possible that I am simply an exception to this seemingly regular process of studying abroad? Sure. But it's not that simple. You see, I am, in fact, experiencing a ridiculous amount of emotions and having way too many thoughts at once. But that's the thing, it all happens at once. It's not a roller coaster where I feel individual things at certain times. No, it's one of those spinning rides that mixes anything and everything you may have consumed that day into a giant mess in your stomach, and then tells your mind to process it, Quick!, before the ride is over. Yeah right.

However, for as long as I can remember, I have been able to think most clearly in the morning while having breakfast, and it just so happens that that is where you find me right now. So, I will try to elaborate on how this week has been, and where I find myself now.

Sunday tested me first. Following our weekly meal with my grandparents and extended family, my first goodbye's sneaked up on me. (Who knew "snuck" wasn't a word? Not me...) After dinner, as I lounged by Papi's side with Claudia sprawled over the both of us, it really hit me. I had known this would be the last time to see my grandma and grandpa, and possibly Monica, uncle Miguel and Claudia, but in that moment, I felt it. Not "in the pit of my stomach" or some cliche like that, but more in the way where time froze for a second, I got goosebumps and this thought crossed my mind: This moment, right now, will never come again. These people in this room will probably never cross your path again. Today, right now, is the first of many lasts.

I didn't hear a voice or anything like that, but it was the first time I felt completely aware of "the moment," my moment. After taking many pictures, and giving my grandma and grandpa many kisses, the time to say goodbye came and went, just like that; as if this whole semester had really been a week away and it was time to go back to real life and stop playing house with this Spanish family. I climbed into the car, welcomed a pat on the knee from Papi and a sad it's-going-to-be-just-fine smile from Conchi, and stared out the window until we got home.
I feel as though I should have a powerful, emotional story for my goodbye to my brother, too, but I would be lying to say that I do. Miguel only lived at home the first three weeks I was in Spain, and since then has been at the Guardia Civil down in Andalucia, so I've only seen him maybe three times since February. Taking pictures with him was a bit awkward (much more so than sitting squeezed between two hugging grandparents) but saying goodbye was much more uncomfortable. It went something like this:
-Me: So, when do you leave?
-Miguel: Well, that's my bag there. Like right now.
-Me: Oh...
-Miguel: Okay, uh, well I guess this is it then.
-Me: Yup!
(Give the standard kiss-kiss on the cheek)
-Both of us: Alright, well, take care! Bye!
(Miguel exits downstage to drive back to school, I half-jog upstairs to do homework.)

And that was that.

The rest of the week has been a tug-of-war match for me. Or the "untangle the spiderweb team-building" exercise. I can't really decide. But basically, all of the following elements are living inside of me pretending they can all crash on the couch that is my mind and hang out:
-Stress over finals
-Sadness for leaving
-Anxiety to pack (both for home and my trip)
-Planning my trip
-Convincing myself I've lost my mind for trying to squeeze 11 cities into 23 days
-Wanting to go home
-Not being able to breathe when I got an email from Hilary saying my grandma had been in a car accident and was in the hospital
-Crying out of love, longing and adoration when Hilary relayed that Grandpa had told her he prays for my safety and for me coming home every day
-Missing my family and wishing I was with them
-Thinking about how much I'm going to miss my host family and wish I was with them in a few weeks
-Realizing I have to say goodbye to friends that don't go to the U in two days
-Trying to figure out how I'm going to get to the airport for my final flight home
-Thinking ahead to the crazy week and weekends I have when I do get home
-Pretending I have time to sleep

All those things have set up camp inside me, telling me that they've each drawn straws and decided they're all allowed to stay indefinitely. Thanks guys, can't wait to get to know each of you.

In honor of my mom's birthday (my real mom, not my host mom), I shall write out the Spanish "Happy Birthday" song for her and all of you. Sing along! It's the same tune :)

Cumpleaños a ti, Cumpleaños a ti, que todos le desean, Cumpleaños a ti!

On a less exciting note, I have finals this week and will be studying all day. Happy Sunday!

Looking to save money on my 24-day backpacking adventure around Europe (which I leave for in 9 days... oh dear...) I decided I needed to get myself an International Student Identity Card (ISIC). With this card, you get discounts on traveling, hostels, museums, etc. Yesterday I went to Yuki (one of the program administrators at the Fund) to ask her how I go about getting an ISIC, and she kindly wrote me directions to both the buildings I needed to go to as well as what I should ask once I arrive.

So off I went on my quest for an ISIC. Step one went smoothly: go to the bank and get a document saying I paid 6 euro (still not sure why I couldn't just pay for it in cash, but whatever). Step two did not go so well. The address Yuki gave me for where I would receive the actual card was easy to find, but once I got inside, it was very dark and there were no rooms to be found. I found the light switch, saw the stairs and headed up. I entered the first office I saw, not knowing what else to do, and asked the first person I saw how I could get an ISIC. Strange look #1. He called a co-worker over, made me repeat my request, which led to strange look #2. Finally, a third employee came over, told me that what I was looking for was in a different building, and told me to go to a government office across the street from Santo Tome museum. Okay.

I backtracked to the the building I thought I'd been told to go to, entered and discovered that I was in a retirement home. I didn't even know there was a retirement home in Toledo! The ladies working there were extremely nice to this lost American, though, and helped me as best they could- by sending me back to the place I'd just come from. I had no other option, so back I went.

When I returned to the first building, the door was no longer open. I decided to suck it up, quit pretending I knew what I was doing and ask for help. A wonderful woman helped me get in the building by finding the buzzer and unashamedly pushing every button until someone opened the door (bless her heart, I never would have had the courage) and up I went, this time choosing the second floor to try. Sure enough, once I got there a note on the door was staring me in the face: Moved to a new location across the street from Santo Tome museum. Awesome.

So, for the third time in 30 minutes, I retraced my steps (passing the same man playing accordion each time) back through Zocodover and down to Santo Tome. And there, in small writing on a glass door, was the building I had been looking for. In I went, asked the receptionist where to go, walked up to a woman who clearly wanted nothing to do with me (certainly so after she sent me away to work with a different person) and got my card.

I guess stubbornness paid off for me this afternoon. Now I just hope the card pays for itself, too.

It's cold right now. And raining. Not quite how I wanted to end my time in Spain. I guess it wil make the leaving part easier, but still, not fun.

However, I did do something exciting today despite the weather trying to get me down. I got my hair cut and highlighted.

For those of you who know me well, you know I am a particular person, especially when it comes to my hair. I've gone through many hair stylists who haven't quite "made the cut," and my sister, Hilary, can testify to my habit of cooping myself up in the bathroom following any haircut to fix it with my own scissors. So, to go to a new stylist in a new country is, to me, a testimony to my growth as an open-minded human being. Laugh all you want, I'm sticking to that story.

The hair dresser I went to is the woman who cuts and colors my neighbor lady's hair. Isabelle (my neighbor) is best friends with Conchi, and since the salon Conchi and Elena attend is far away by my grandparent's house, Conchi called Isa yesterday to ask her for details so that I could get my hair fixed. By the way, Conchi looked thrilled when I told her I wanted to get my hair done. Apparently it was worse than even I'd thought at that point, all long and straggly with zero shape. She told me what she thought I should do to it, grabbed the phone and made the call.

After receiving the necessary vocabulary to have a successful experience ("capas" = layers, "mechas" = highlights, "flequillas largos" = longer bangs), I set off for the salon. Now, an important detail, when I get nervous, my Spanish fails me miserably. So there I was, flubbing about like an American fool trying to explain what I wanted to be done to my hair. Luckily, the stylist was a pro and read me like a book. She interpreted my tugging at my hair and pointing stupidly to my grown-out layers perfectly as, "I want what I had before -same color, same size- just new because look how grown out and ugly it is!" and sent her assistant off to mix the color. I strained to hear what she told her to get, as if I would know the difference, then promptly continued playing with my ring, a bad nervous habit I have.

Another first occurred at the hair salon when I saw what I look like extremely flustered. I remembered Conchi telling me to relay the fact that I'm Isa's neighbor to the stylist at an awkward time, during which I thought I heard Isabelle's name in the stylist and her assistant's conversation, and blurted out, "Soy, er, estoy, er, estoy viviendo al lado de Isa... soy su vecina!" Which I had to repeat many times, due to my awful accent. As I did so, my face grew more and more red. And here I thought I wasn't a blusher.

Normally when hair stylists work fast, I get very nervous; this was no exception. The stylist, Gema, worked with the most intense speed I'd ever encountered. She used that comb and whipped through those pieces of tinfoil as if competing for a new world record. I twirled my ring with increasing speed. Within 15 minutes, my head was covered, and I was left with a Spanish version of "STAR" magazine to flip through. While sitting, I got to practice my eavesdropping skills, and watched as a little girl got beautified for her First Communion, well, a practice run for it, at least.

Finally, after Gem had washed, cut and styled three other people's hair (she's the only stylist in her salon), her assistant washed my hair. I caught a glimpse of myself before she rinsed me, and almost had a heart attack, forgetting that the color cream that had been used on me was white; I was convinced they'd waited too long and my hair had been bleached out. No such problem, however. As Gema combed out my hair, I saw that yes, it was more blond than I'm used to, but it worked with my somewhat tanned skin.

We played the same stutter-and-interpret-Ellen's-hand-signal game when it came to me explaining the cut I wanted, and she got to work, using her scissors just as fast as she'd used the comb and highlighting brush (setting off yet another round of spin-the-ring.) Once she'd finished, however, I could already tell, wet hair and all, that I liked what she'd done. After getting blow dried, I really liked it. Usually when I ask for long bangs, I get an awkward combination of a straight angle that doesn't blend into my hair, or randomly selected pieces that resemble bangs, but only if you part it in the exact right position. Not so here. I don't know how she did it, but she selected the perfect amount of hair, snipped a bit, let them fall and then dried them into place. "Te gusta?" she asked. "Si!" I said, too much surprise in my voice, I'm sure. "Te dije no te preocupas," she smiled at me. (I told you not to worry).

The total for my new-do, which thrilled Conchi and even led Elena to give me a compliment, followed by "You look even more American now!", was only 35 euro. What a steal.

Click here to see a picture, if you'd like. :)

I arrived back "home" in Toledo at 2:30 on Friday, just in time for lunch (hooray!) Explaining travels is quite difficult in a foreign language, so I stuck to the basics and just enjoyed being back with my family.

The weather decided to return to winter-mode that day (and every day following), so it kept raining/hailing/being extremely windy every half-hour or so, making it difficult to predict whether or not the Good Friday procession would happen at 8:00pm that night (if it rains, they postpone it so as not to ruin the displays). However, when 7pm rolled around, the rain had let up, so I headed up to Toledo with Conchi and Miguel to join Miguel's brother, nephew, niece-in-law and their little boy, Jugo, for the processions.

It was very cold and windy, so finding a good spot wasn't as difficult as it had been in years past, Conchi said. We claimed a corner as our own, the prime setting to see the entire procession sans other people blocking our view. Each display was more beautiful than the one proceeding it, and I took full advantage of our position to take pictures. You can see them in the "Good Friday" album.

Following the procession, I tagged along with my family to three bars, ending at Hotel Medina, where my aunt, uncle and cousin, Claudia, were already enjoying food and drinks. By that point, I had been awake for 17 hours, and that after only getting maybe five hours of sleep (and no coffee! Nightmare.) I could feel a migraine coming on, but felt bad interrupting Miguel's chat-with-the-men time. However, once Conchi and my aunt, Monica, started calling me "Elenita" because I kept nodding off like a little girl, Conchi made me call Miguel over to tell him to get the car. I tried calling his name first, but when that didn't work, Conchi told me to call him what he really is to me, my "papi." So there I was, a grown 21-year-old girl, calling my "papi" to get the car so I could go to bed. It was 10:30pm, by the way.

When Miguel heard me call him papi, he turned around immediately, a big smile growing on his face. "Mi hija me necesita, hombres," he said. "Tengo que traerla el coche." (In English: "My daughter needs me, guys. I need to bring the car around for her.") I like the ring of "papi," so that's what I call him now. Plus, it solved the Miguel-my-dad vs. Miguel-my-brother issue.

We finally got home around 11pm, by which time all sounds and lights felt like they were ridiculously too strong to be real, and I crawled into my pajamas and bed faster than I've ever done before. Within two minutes of taking Excedrin PM, I was out. And I stayed that way until 11am the next morning, a great start to the weekend, I'd say!

This day turned out to be incredibly dysfunctional, making it pretty hilarious in retrospect. Since we had basically seen all there is to see in Nafplio, we decided to get an early start Thursday and head to Mycenae. The town had been talked up quite a bit by many Greeks, so naturally we wanted to explore it for ourselves. As we checked out of the hotel, we asked our receptionist whether we could keep our things there and pick them up after our Mycenae adventure. He told us it would be smarter and cheaper if we simply brought all our stuff (giant backpacks and overstuffed shopping bags) along with us, since there's a bus station in Mycenae that goes to Athens. "That way you won't have to backtrack to Nafplio," he said, smiling. "Saves you time and money!" Great! we thought. What a superb idea.

WRONG.

The half-hour bus ride to Mycenae went well, sun shining down on us as we happily thought about what we would be seeing. Then, arriving in ancient Mycenae, something dawned on us: we'd passed town a good 5 minutes back, and that's where the bus station is. We each have 20+ pounds of stuff on our back and in our hands. The next bus doesn't come until 4pm. What have we done?! Sure enough, as the bus pulled away, we found ourselves stranded at a tourist trap. An 8 euro charge to enter the ruins turned us away immediately, especially since we could see the hill and measly ruins from where we'd been ditched. Looking at one another, we realized what the rest of the afternoon had in store for us: walking back to town.

Well, the sun was warm and the landscape lovely, so off we went. Luckily, the trek back was all downhill. We encountered a few problems, sure: tour buses almost running us over, cars slowing down to honk and laugh, tiring of "99 Bottles of Beer on the Wall" after 11 verses, and having a "1 kilometer" walk (another lovely detail our receptionist bestowed upon us before leaving) turn into 4 kilometers... all the joys of last minute planning. But we made it! And with time to spare, too. Clamoring onto the bus to Athens at 12:45pm, we smiled at how our day had gone so far, then promptly fell asleep.

---

Public transportation failed us yet again in Athens. We arrived at the metro on time, as well as the bus stop we needed to get back to where we were staying, and that's where we remained for almost an HOUR waiting for the A17 bus that, according to the sign, came "Every 15-20 minutes." Right. When we finally made it back, we had been traveling for four-and-a-half hours: a two-hour bus ride, a 30-minute metro ride, an hour of standing and waiting, and a 30-minute bus ride. We were pooped. Almost making up for it, though, was the dinner we had that night, a feast of roasted eggplants, diced chicken in amazing sauces, fresh salad with dijon mustard vinaigrette dressing and apple, whole-grain pasta, and fresh fruit. Since I had to wake up at 5am the next morning to head to the airport (another long bus ride), I went to bed shortly after dinner and, not surprisingly, fell right asleep.

Wednesday blessed us with a mostly sunny day. Without the wind, it would have been ideal, but alas, perfection is rare. We spent the day lazily strolling the streets of Nafplio, window shopping as well as trying-on-all-the-too-expensive-dresses shopping. However, we did purchase a few things: I bought a vintage, handmade, original silver pinkie-finger ring with a black stone as well as two handmade ceramic mugs (I even got an exclusive look at the potters' shop and kiln... very sweet man); Laura bought the most "blinging" pink flip-flops I've ever seen (they look great on her!) as well as a necklace; Erin bought a dress that looked as if it was made for her and some cold medicine (poor thing got sick just as spring break began).

Following our mini-shopping spree, we dropped our new belongings off at the hotel and embarked on a walk to the pier which turned into a walk around the peninsula. The wind grew stronger as the day passed, but after an hour or two, we found a warm, sheltered spot on the rocks bordering the ocean. At first, we just perched there for a while, but soon each of us laid down and drifted into our own worlds until the sun left us. The cat nap felt good, and we headed back to the hotel room, still not quite back in reality.

Laura had a lot of homework to do over break, so Erin and I decided to give her some time to actually get some of it done. The two of us left the room on a coffee shop search, but ended up settling on a restaurant/cafe called "Popeye's." It appeared to be an extension of the restaurant across the street and we were the only customers. The stencil-walled shop housed an odd collection of items: old chairs and tables, a poster of Popeye, a cooler with ice cream treats, menus which had seen better days and a half-empty sweets display case. Erin ordered a honey and almond crepe (which ended up being honey and walnut... close enough) along with tea, and I ordered a Greek coffee (hard to describe, really. Looks like the "coffee" I used to make with my cousins at the cabin using worm-hole dirt and water, tastes like thick espresso.) We spent the rest of the afternoon chatting about our families, school, travels, etc., just getting to know one another better and enjoying the idea of having nothing to do.

We reunited with Laura around 9pm and headed to dinner. Although it wasn't as good as the night before, we each got to try very traditional Greek dishes, and I got to complete the list of Greek foods I wanted to eat. Spinach pie, braised beef in tomato sauce, mousakka, and stuffed peppers graced the dinner table, and our stomachs.

By the time we made it back to the hotel, our "full" day of doing nothing caught up to us, each of us collapsing into bed, settling in for a chat and laughter until we fell asleep.

A bit of a side-note before I begin telling you about Nafplio, the first capital of Greece: our hotel room's door was right on the street. No buffer, no stairs, but directly on the street. So, since Nafplio is a quaint town with narrow streets, anyone who walked past our room and decided to have a conversation, even using "inside" voices, could be heard by us, the three Americans located directly behind door number 1 trying to sleep. This being said, tourist groups seemed to be fully enjoying Nafplio during the time we stayed there, because each morning around 9:30am, the voices of little children would penetrate our room, followed by the yells of their chaperons to be quiet. Very helpful.

Now, while this was mostly a nuisance, it also had its perks. For example, one afternoon we were getting ready to leave and heard the familiar tones of a group of Americans. Not paying too much attention, we continued to go about our business when suddenly we heard this conversation take place: "Hey, this is that old church! (our hotel's location is across from the oldest Cathedral in Nafplio, a popular listing for tour books) -pause (we assume they stopped to look at the sign next to the door, which is, of course, written in Greek)- ...Is that Arabic?" Perfect. Thank you, American tourists, for adding such dignity to our country's name. We are so grateful to you for boosting our already stellar reputation as an intelligent and cultured nation. Bravo.

Okay, enough sarcasm. We claimed Tuesday as our day to conquer Nafplio's castle. Apparently, some poor fellow decided to count the number of stone steps leading up the "mountain" to the fortress once upon a time, so now that's what it's famous for: 999 stairs to the entrance. We're quite grateful to said poor fellow, because it sounds really impressive to say we climbed 999 stairs up a mountain to conquer the once-capital-of-Greece's castle. Which is what we did.

The weather cooperated beautifully for our adventure, being not too hot or cold, and providing just enough sun and cloud coverage to refresh us when needed, and tan us a bit, too. I don't remember what time we began our hike, but the climb up combined with exploring the little nooks and crannies along the way, plus exploring the entire castle (which ended up being huge! Lots of fun jails and additional areas we didn't know about before), plus sitting for a long time looking out at the sea, plus the walk back down took us a little over four hours, give or take. It's hard to put what we saw into words, which is what the photographs are for. Check out the "Nafplio" album... hopefully they speak for themselves. If not, I can tell you in person when we next meet!

Following our hike, we took a bit of a break so that Laura could register (or attempt to after wading through the Greek instructions from the WiFi card we had to purchase...) and we could change before doing more exploring. From the castle, we had seen that Nafplio is much bigger than we'd originally thought. So, naturally, we wanted to get to know our surroundings better. After Laura found out that she could not, in fact, register, we headed out to see what else Nafplio had to offer.

As it turns out, our part of town happened to be the pretty part of town. We walked through the more, how do I say this, "Oops, you weren't supposed to see this" part of town for about 30 minutes, during which we got funny looks, had a stray dog following us and lost that "Oh, Nafplio is so much sweeter than Athens" feeling. Which is when we decided to head back to the cute part of the city. We claimed a few seats at one of the cafe's bordering the sea, ordered some wine and settled in to watch the sunset and wait until 9pm to go find dinner. Earlier that day, after the castle adventure, I'd asked a gentleman where good places to eat were. He wrote down a few of his favorites, and said all we had to do was ask around a bit and we'd be able to find them no problem. So, after our wines (apparently the waiter liked us, because he offered free refills without our asking) and some conversation, we asked for the bill along with directions to one of the restaurants. By 9pm, we were on our way to eat.

By coincidence, the restaurant recommended to us was the same one that we had seen the night before during our walk around town and noted as one we'd like to try. Before leaving for Greece, I'd written down some traditional Greek meals I wanted to try, and this restaurant offered most of them. I ordered the roast lamb with a Greek salad and potatoes, an enormous meal for a very good price. The atmosphere, food and company were perfect, and it was a lovely ending to a very full day.

Here is the schedule we had made for ourselves to get to Nafplio: take the A17 bus to Omonia (one of the plazas), walk two streets over, catch the 051 bus, take it all the way to the end and hop on the bus to Nafplio. Easy, right? Wrong.

The A17 part was fine. Finding Omonia was a bit trickier, but we managed to spot a sign and get off near where we were supposed to. Now, finding the stop for 051? Impossible. Not only did we ask three different people working in the bus booths where the stop was (getting a new answer each time), but it was raining (not sprinkling, raining) and we had all our stuff with us. So, picture this: three clearly American girls wandering wide-eyed through random back-streets in Greece asking just about anyone who looked somewhat intelligent or approachable where the bus stop for 051 was. Awesome. Finally we found it, and just in time because it was about to leave. So on we clamored, stuffed backpacks and all.

We ended up making it to the actual bus station just in time, as well, 5 minutes before the 12:00 bus to Nafplio took off. Of course we were given wrong directions to find that one, too, but it all worked out in the end.

Two and a half hours later, we were OUT of dirty, crowded Athens and enjoying the forever-reaching green scenery of Greece's countryside and seaside. We arrived in Nafplio around 2:30pm, found our hotel quite easily (it's so much more simple when there aren't streets crisscrossing in every direction), and crashed, quite literally, for 3 or more hours. I'd bargained with the receptionist at Byron Hotel via e-mail to give us the three-bed suite for 65 euro a night if we paid in cash. It was glorious to have our very own room with a bathroom, individual beds (pull-out couch for me), refrigerator, TV (CNN in English!) and SPACE to spread out! Such a treat compared to crowded, bunked hostel rooms.

After our glorious nap, we set out to explore our new town for a bit. We wandered through the streets - all very clean and pretty compared to Athens - admiring the stores, bookmarking the places we wanted to come back to during the day, eying the restaurants and breathing the fresh air blown in from the sea. Our first purchase in Greece came soon: organic honey from fir trees. Now, I know this may sound like a stretch to you, but please believe me. It was the best honey I have ever eaten. This next statement may gross you out, or make you raise an eyebrow, but if you'd tasted this honey, you would have done the same thing. I ate an entire jar of this heaven-sent honey during the next 4 days. I put it on everything: yogurt, bread, toasted/biscuit bread (hard to explain, really), fruit, dried fruit, cereal...everything. It was incredible.

The honey-high was followed with some grocery shopping (to utilize our fridge, of course) and relaxing in our room. We were so ready to do nothing, it was fantastic. Laying in our beds, we each read, taking breaks only to share stories or shower, and then fell asleep, loving the peacefulness of Nafplio.

Sunday ended up being our busy see-all-of-Athens day. Despite the rain, we managed to enjoy the main sites of Athens, and for free! First stop was the National Archaeological Museum, since we now knew it closes at 3pm. We did our best to stay interested and recognize that everything we saw was incredibly old and amazing, but after you see 100+ pieces of pottery that looking surprisingly identical, it's a bit wearing. Same with marble statues. All incredible artifacts when you consider how old they are, but still very much like one another. I could never be an archaeologist.

After the museum, it was off to the Acropolis. The rain put a bit of a damper on the afternoon, but the pictures still turned out well, and it stayed at a light drizzle, which was much better than the alternative (downpour). Once we felt we'd fully explored the Acropolis, we were joined by our German friend, Lars, and headed to meet our Greek friends Stefanos, Kostos, and ______ (I'm really not very good with names) for coffee and the Greek version of donuts, which are a bit difficult to explain, really, but basically it's fried dough that's still airy on the inside, covered with honey and cinnamon. A good treat.

Following our snack, we went to Stefano's apartment for dinner. He's a chef, so needless to say we ate very well. The sauces he made were unlike any I'd had before, and I'm eager to try and recreate them when I get home. At least I'll try!

Laura, Erin and I wanted to get an early start the next day, so after dinner we bid everyone goodnight and headed off to go to sleep, bellies and minds full of all things Greece.

Saturday and Sunday were spent getting to know our way around Athens. We took the bus and metro everywhere we could, and walked the rest. The buses in Athens are not reliable, we soon found out, but luckily we had no set agenda and were able to wait the 30-45 minutes at the stops.

Saturday started with a game: find the metro station. Not being able to read or understand any Greek coupled with not knowing anything about the city made for quite the start to our day. We knew which bus to take and which metro line to take after that, but nothing else. So, it went something like this: wait 30 minutes for the A17 bus, wait until the majority of the people get off, and follow them. We did this, and magically arrived at the metro stop.

Once there, we followed our directions to the stop at which we were to take the subway (we still don't know the difference between metro and subway, by the way) to the "end," where we would then see the National Archaeological Museum. Right. Here's what really happened: we took the metro to said stop, got out, didn't see any sort of "subway," went back down to the man at the metro station, asked him what to do, ended up just saying "National Archaeological Museum" very slowly because he didn't speak English, had him point to the metro map showing us that we should go back a stop, did this, go off, looked at our map, realized it was a gorgeous day, and walked to the museum.

Arriving at the museum, we were quite proud of our resourcefulness and decided to rest a bit in the very green grass, which is uncommon in Spain. While doing this, two Greek men decided to boost their egos and invite us to have coffee with them. We agreed (in need of the caffeine and always game for free things) and ended up spending the next 40 minutes listening to ______ (don't remember his name...) talk about himself for a very long time, while his friend sat there looking as bored as we wanted to look. After giving him a fake number and telling him false details, I managed to wedge us away from the pair in time to go eat. Luckily, we got a good restaurant tip from the friend, who seemed nice and who I wish would have talked more during the coffee break.

We found a restaurant that looked very charming and authentic, chose an outdoor table, and were waited upon by a very nice gentleman who would amusingly write out words on napkins for us whenever we asked what a certain food or ingredient was. We each ordered a gyro (only 1.80 euro... awesome!) and a Greek salad. Now, I haven't eaten cheese in over a year due to being lactose intolerant, but I made sure to stock up on my medicine in order to enjoy the feta in Greece. It was SO worth it! That cheese, topped with oregano and paired with the freshest, sweetest, juiciest tomatoes I've ever tasted was the best treat I could have asked for. We savored each bite, so much so that when we finally made our way back to go inside the museum, we saw that it had closed at 3pm. It was 3:15.

No matter, off to the Acropolis we headed! Now that we knew where the metro was, the journey went much more smoothly. By the time we got there, it was hot out, which felt fantastic. After a few wrong turns (once when we got off the metro... little did we know that if we'd simply turned around the Acropolis would have been staring down at us; and the other when we were trying to find the entrance to the Acropolis... in our defense, there were others confused, too.) we finally made it to the entrance. Only to be plastered with a 12 euro entrance fee. No thank you. Lucky for us, the first Sunday of every month is FREE entrance to museums and historical sites, Acropolis included. So that pretty much set our schedule for the next day.

Instead of going inside the Acropolis, we decided to enjoy what's around the Acropolis: the view. We climbed up the neighboring hill and simply sat, soaking in all that Athens is. Which is, of course, overly crowded square footage with dirty streets and shabby houses. Sorry if I just burst your bubble, but hey, I had to go there to get my dreams of Athens ruined. At least I'm saving you time and money.

Yes, it was neat to be amidst such amazing historical sites and tales from centuries ago. However, I have never felt so claustrophobic or trapped as I did while in Athens. The only "pretty" things are those that tourists pay to keep up, otherwise the city is full of chain-smokers, impatient drivers and apartments that need more than a fresh coat of paint. Also, I was looking forward to a break from Spanish men and their wandering eyes. Little did I know Greek men not only look, but they grab, touch, gesture, yell, whistle and stare. So much better.

As night began to fall, it grew chilly on the hill, so we decided to head back and call it a day. On our way down, Laura made a new "friend" named Apollo. Apollo is a loud, flamboyant, talkative casino dealer. Not only did he talk our ears off pretending to know everything about everything, he insisted on taking pictures with us. We attempted to leave at least six times before actually leaving. Here's what I learned from the Greeks I met: not only do they think they do everything better than the rest of the world (talk, eat, work, etc.) but they'll never shut up about it. Sometimes, with the right people, this can be amusing and a fun tug-of-war conversation. However, with Apollo, it was more if him invoking war without giving us any rope to tug at. Not fun.

After we sprinted, er, walked to the metro, we had another fun bus "experience." We waited at the bus stop for about 40 minutes (okay, we expected as much), got on the correct bus, but then realized we had no idea where to get off the bus. Problem. Our solution wasn't much better: look out the window and try to recognize a landmark. Yeah right! We'd only been there a day! So what ended up happening was we rode the bus to the end of the stop, sheepishly approached the bus driver, silently rejoiced when he spoke enough English to understand us, and audibly rejoiced when he said he would drop us off at the plaza near where we were staying. Thank you, Demetrius, for being a true gentleman.

All the trouble was worth it, though, because when we finally got back to our place, we enjoyed a nice treat: good Greek food and good conversation with new friends. Finally, we got to ask questions, were asked questions and learned more about a country that was so foreign to us (well, me at least). A nice end to an adventure-filled afternoon.

Like most travel plans go, our spring break didn't happen according to the agenda. Right from the start, plans that were made had to be changed, and going with the flow became a necessity, not a choice.

Laura, Erin and I got to the Madrid airport a little after 11am to check-in and head to Athens at 12:55. Since planning ahead and being timely aren't Spanish traits, our check-in counter wasn't posted when we arrived, so we headed to McDonald's to satisfy Laura's cheeseburger craving and hang out until we knew where to go next. Around 11:45, the Olympic Airline counter number appeared next to our flight, and we headed to the counter to check in.

When we arrived, a not-so-pleasant woman told us that there were only two seats left on our flight, they had over-booked, and we needed to decide immediately who would be going and who would be staying. Now, this confused us because we had booked and paid for our tickets back in February. Not a few days before, but two months before. As we explained this to her, she just stared at us, said there was nothing she could do, and asked us to decide...now. In all honesty, we took less than a minute to decide that Laura would stay back and work on homework, and Erin and I would wait for her in Athens. Within those seconds, apparently another "booking" occurred, because when we passed this information on, the woman told us that there was now only one available seat. Great. At that point, we decided to do the seemingly unthinkable (to the woman helping us) and ask to all be moved to a later flight, together.

This flustered her (and led me to pull out my "Tommy Boy" quote: "I can get you on a flight back from Chicago at 5pm, does that help?") and she snapped that she would see what she could do, but she would "strongly recommend" to choose one person and use the available seat. We smiled politely and said we were just fine waiting together.

Our frustration lasted less than five minutes after we realized that we really had no choice in the matter, so we settled in for the wait. The updates from the woman ranged from potentially having to provide us with a hotel for the night to flying out later that day (fingers crossed). We also heard something about "compensation," which pleased us, but really we had no idea what to expect. So there we were, three girls with three backpacks watching the animated video demonstrating why you should get your luggage saran wrapped before your trip (very strong arguments, including: ants invading, a crab attacking your unwrapped face, being more stylish, not being cold while skiing, and not getting wet after lightning strikes the tree you were standing under during a storm... all of these being demonstrated with wrapped and unwrapped suitcases, mind you. Laura enjoyed them the most, I think.)

During our wait, we met another person who had been bumped off the flight. His name is Elias, and he was in Spain for an ACDC concert. He's a native Greek studying in Scotland, and soon the four of us began chatting; mostly us asking him everything about Greece (aka food). After an hour or more (more), the woman told us that she could get us all on the 6:30pm flight. We were thrilled! But that wasn't all. In addition to getting us on that flight, we would have business class seats, meal vouchers and be compensated 400 euro for the inconvenience. Side note: my flight only cost 271 euros, meaning I would actually be making money in this process.
Thrilled no longer describes what we were at this point... delirious comes close. As she handed us each 400 euros in cash, smiles became permanent features on our faces, and we began spouting out ridiculous sentences, such as, "I can't believe this just... I mean... do you see?... how the... Like we were mad!" This lasted for, oh, the whole time until we boarded, and it was completely wonderful. After the woman helped us check in and got us pointed in the right direction, we headed to the cafe which provided our free lunch and had a feast. Literally. With the meal voucher, we received salad, a meal (huge piece of chicken with veggies and potatoes), bread, a drink, and dessert. While eating, we realized that with our business class tickets, we would be allowed into the VIP lounge to wait until boarding. Excited about our newly boosted status, we quickly finished lunch and searched for our new home.

It didn't take long for us to find the lounge, and we quickly claimed a corner filled with leather couches as our own. The lounge had free coffee, espresso, tea, snacks, liquor, wine, water, internet, newspapers, showers (which we didn't use, but were impressed by), hand towelettes (which we may or may not have stolen handfuls of...), and pretty much everything else you would imagine a VIP lounge to have. Of course, we looked like huge nerds carrying around our boarding pass just in case someone asked to see it (which was very likely, seeing as we were not dressed appropriately whatsoever) and had the wide-eyes of a toddler at Christmas.

The luxury continued on the plane, where we were served all the refreshments we liked as well as given our choice of dinners. Airplane food is not that bad when you pay the big bucks for it! (Or are paid the big bucks for it, in our case!) Even though none of us were hungry after being repeatedly stuffed by the free lunch and snacks, we felt obligated and privileged to be given an actual good meal on the plane, so we stuffed ourselves one last time. Basically, we were four Cinderella's amazed at what our fairy godmothers had done for us, and savored every last moment until the bell tolled midnight (or, the plane landed).

Already 11pm when we landed, we were fortunate to have Elias around to help us figure out where we needed to go. He pointed us to the right bus, gave us specific directions and found us a map, just in case. That plus the help Laura had received from George, the Greek man she sat next to on the plane and got translations/advice from, set us on our way to the beginning of our adventure in Greece.

April 3: Land in Athens around 5:30, spend the night there "getting acquainted"
April 4: Head to Ancient Corinth on a bus in the morning. Spend the day there. Head back to Athens at night.
April 5: Head to Nafplio
April 6-8: Explore within and around Nafplio and pray that it's warm enough to lay on the beach!
Night of April 8: Back to Athens
April 9: Explore Athens
Morning of April 10: Fly back to Madrid

April 2, 2009. Today's date. I'm sitting in my room, and realizing that it just now got dark out, at 9:00pm. And that I just packed my backpack for Greece. And that I leave for spring break tomorrow, even though my mind is still playing tricks on me, telling me I've only been here a month tops. But that's just not true. I don't know how long it will take to finally settle in that I've spent the last 77 days in Spain, or that I only have 24 days left in Spain, but when it does, I have a feeling I'll need a long time to process it. For now, I'll stick to today.

Today, I had two presentations to do, the last big assignments until finals in two weeks. They went well, one about the construction of a Greco painting, the other about press censorship during Franco. I feel as though I should be more surprised at my recently formed ability to speak and understand Spanish, but, like I said, I can't seem to actually process all of that quite yet. Instead, I find myself attempting to step outside my body for a moment to reflect and listen with fresh ears, just to discover that I've simply found another way to zone out during class.

A few tangible signs that I have indeed been in Spain for almost three months include: my hair is quite long and my highlights need touching up, my desk is filled with travel clutter, my closet is almost half-full of Spanish clothing, my Maalox is almost gone (ut oh), I have pictures from all over Spain as well as London, I have notebooks filled with Spanish notes, I've fallen into a weekly routine, and every time I sign onto any form of "chat" function online, the first thing people say to me is, "How's Spain?" I guess I'm really here, and have been for some time now.

A few notions I've acquired due to my time in Spain thus far: I absolutely loath cat-calls; cobblestones are very slippery when wet; walking slowly while chatting and blocking the entire street (which is an arms-length wide) is not considered rude, it's considered normal; in order to talk on ones cellphone, you must yell (if everyone can't hear you, you're obviously doing something wrong); don't touch the fruit at the supermarket; taking your time is just fine; dressing to the nines in order to leave the house is necessary; olive oil and tuna are your friends; there are three types of women in the minds of single Spanish men: married Spanish women, single Spanish women, and foreign women, which they forcefully and loudly deem their favorite type... lucky us...; small dogs can and will dominate any conversation; there will always be someone more touristy than you; if all else fails, there's always an open bar somewhere.

I apologize if most of those seem negative, but I seem to find myself at a strange place right now. I'm not homesick, but I'm not feeling at home in Spain any longer. Perhaps it's the travel bug beginning to bite at me, or the novelty of my situation has simply worn down into fatigue, but Spain isn't sitting well with me right now. I'm not unhappy, nor am I looking forward to leaving my wonderful family and friends, I'm simply... unsettled. Hopefully Greece will snap me out of it. If not, a self-inflicted adjustment will occur promptly, and I will return to soaking in all of Spain with a smiling face once more.

Yet another week has come and gone here in Spain. It was a good one, but I'm still in disbelief that next week this time I'll be in Greece. Hopefully in a church in Greece to celebrate Palm Sunday. Greece t-minus 5 days!

Before I get ahead of myself, let's look back on the weekend.

Friday: The Fund organized a day-trip to Cuenca, a town about 2 hours east of Toledo. The bus picked us up at 7:40am (ugh.) and we were on the road by 8:30. The landscape along the road to Cuenca wasn't anything spectacular: olive farms, red rock and a few nice valley views. Once we got into Cuenca, however, we were pleasantly surprised. The town is situated between 2 rivers, one which is strangely green in color (think chlorine) due to the minerals it picks up from the mountain, and one that's just a regular river. Due to the location, Cuenca is built into the bluffs of the rivers, houses hidden in the rocks and fields tucked into the valley. It's very picturesque.

Following a quick bus tour of Cuenca, we embarked on foot into the city, walking slowly so everyone could take pictures along the way. We learned that the cathedral is the oldest in Spain (NOT gothic, though, they made a point of repeating this several times) and that Cuenca has almost the exact same history of Toledo in terms of who-conquered-whom, but everything happened a few hundred years after it happened in Toledo.

Now, I bet you'll never guess where they took us in Cuenca. Art museum? No. A Church? No. A science museum? Ding ding ding ding ding! We went to a science museum. First, they gave us a prompt 30 minutes to "explore" (along with the school group of 8th graders) and then, for a special treat, we went to the planetarium! This excited quite a few people, and there were actually a few gasps, oohs and aahs. Pretty funny :)

Even though I just gave it a bad rap, the planetarium was actually pretty cool. Funny, since it was all in Spanish (obviously), but I hadn't been in one since junior high, and they are interesting.

Lunch at a cute hotel in the bluffs followed the science museum, after which we took another hour bus ride to a monastery in Ucles, a very small town. Very small. We were given the express tour of the monastery, now a school for boys studying to be priests, and then shoved back onto the bus for the 2 hour ride to Toledo.

Friday night: I celebrated my birthday with friends. Lots of good company, laughs, dancing and smiles. It was a good night.

Saturday: I did nothing until 5pm, when I went to the mall with Anna and Becca and treated myself to some European-styling. I needed something to come back to the States with! After the mall, it was pouring out. I'd brought my umbrella, so it didn't concern me too much. Five minutes of looking around the mall parking lot to figure out which way I should go for the 62 bus stop, I realized that I was already soaking wet, so why not just walk home. Which I did. It was cold, wet and hurt my feet (boo blisters), but I sang Beatles songs to myself the whole time, and it felt kind of good to be out in such crazy weather. Plus, my umbrella didn't break and no one was home when I arrived, so it all worked out nicely.

Sunday: Today. My grandpa and uncle (+ family) are coming over for lunch. I need to interview my grandpa for a history project, and I hope I can (a) understand him (b) get the information I think I'll be able to get (c) not be too nervous.

Turning 21 in the United States has become a glorified moment in a young adult's life. Now you can drink! Now you can partake in all-things cultured! Now you can stop having a tacky fake id! While I've laced these statements in sarcasm, I can assure you that I am indeed excited to be "of age" in the U.S. It's a freeing sort of feeling to know that, if I'd like to, I can order a glass of wine at dinner instead of sneak sips when the waiter isn't looking. Unfortunately (or not), this whole 21 business isn't the same here in Spain or the rest of Europe. But that doesn't mean I didn't have a splendid birthday.

My birthday, March 22, landed on a Sunday this year, which was perfect. Sundays are the day we go to my host grandparent's house for lunch with my extended family, and this Sunday was no different. At 12:30, Conchi, Miguel and I piled into the car (my cake sitting next to me) and headed over to Grandma and Grandpa's apartment. Shortly after arriving, I went with Claudia, my uncle, grandpa and dad to a restaurant for coffee while the women cleaned and cooked (something they still insist I don't help with, even though I'd like to!) Claudia and I had some quality chat time, during which she told me about her "novio" (boyfriend... Claudia's 12), her favorite sports (hockey, gymnastics, handball, baseball, and NOT soccer), showed me how inflexible she is, confiscated my phone to play with and try to understand the English commands, made me listen to her favorite ringtone (an awful Spanish version of "Old McDonald has a Farm" in a squeaky voice), asked me why I don't have a boyfriend and then asked me to text her boyfriend. All in less than 30 minutes.

After the men had finished their, er, coffee, we headed back to the apartment for dinner. The dinner conversation covered a range of topics, including the Guardia Civil (naturally, since my uncle, grandpa and now brother are/were all in it), the food, my travel plans and the type of students Conchi and Miguel have hosted in the past. Here, for your pleasure, is a directly translated part of this conversation:
  GRANDMA: You are just so pretty, my dear. Especially today... it must be because it's your birthday.
  MIGUEL: No, it's because we only let pretty students live at our house, isn't that right, Conchi? (winks at me as my uncle gets a good laugh)
  AUNT MONICA: No, no, that's not true... that one girl you had was ugly!
  GRANDPA: Yea she was... remember that?
  UNCLE: I almost forgot! Very ugly, Elena, not like you!
  CONCHI: Yea, she wasn't very pretty. Very ugly, in fact. But she had such a sweet personality. She was a wonderful girl!
  MIGUEL: Yes, she was very nice. Very nice. But still ugly.
  GRANDMA: I remember her being a nice girl...
  MONICA: I guess so.
  UNCLE: But still ugly! (winks at me)

That conversation alone made my birthday; I hadn't laughed that hard for a while. Then came the birthday cake, for which Claudia meticulously counted out 21 candles (in English!) and I enjoyed watching my uncle, dad and mom attempt to light them all using a lighter (they started on the outside instead of the inside of the candle clump, so those last three were real sticklers). Then they sang to me, Claudia told everyone she just knew I was wishing for a boyfriend (which she later asked me to just confess already that it's Miguel, my host brother. I got control of that situation as quickly as possible by telling her it's against the law to date a host sibling... Miguel (dad) helped me out by agreeing adamantly with lots of nodding) and we enjoyed the cake together.

Basically, I felt like I was at home for my birthday. A wonderfully loud family, teasing and all talking at once, jokes being passed around the table and a very loud singing of "Happy Birthday." Not your typical, all-American 21st like all the shows hype, but a real, genuine birthday, celebrated with family and love.



Side note: My friends didn't buy this as an acceptable birthday, and have dubbed this week/weekend "Ellen's Week." That's all I will say.

Night and morning, to be exact. Last night (Friday), I went with Rachel and Pammy to Madrid for a change of scenery and a night sans plans. We literally showed up, picked a metro stop and made an entire nine hour night out of it. I couldn't tell you which places we went to exactly (besides El Tigre for tapas and we ended at Pacha for dancing), but I can tell you these few things:
1. Spanish men need to learn to be less pushy, less horny and less touchy.
2. Two straws is better than one.
3. Mimicking paid dancers is way more fun than pretending you know how to dance (most of us don't, it's okay).
4. Traveling in three's is more fun and a better "shield" when it comes to the dance clubs.
5. Pretending to be from different countries is entertaining for all!
6. If you're ever craving brutally honest conversations, go into a bar bathroom at 6am and listen. It's incredible the confessions you'll hear.
7. I am officially sick of catcalls and will probably begin to yell not-so-nice things back one of these days.
8. Don't take it personally when you're told you're the most beautiful woman in the world one minute and the next minute your friend is being told the same thing by the same guy. You're both more beautiful than they are, and that's all that matters.
9. Trying to ditch a Spanish man is futile. They're eerily good at finding you. Always.
10. Looking at a Metro map at 6:30am in the morning is a chore. There are lots of little lines.

When I got home at 8:30am, Conchi was already up and in the kitchen, laughing at me  in a good-natured manner for making the effort to come back after being out all night instead of just cave and get a hostel room. Miguel (dad) proudly patted me on the back when I made it to the kitchen at 1pm this afternoon, winking at me as he asked how my few hours of sleep are. Yes, my host parents are proud of me for staying out until 8:30am as well as confused as to why I'm not going out tonight.

I'll never understand Spain.

The first day of spring arrived full-blast here: beautiful sunshine and a day spent at the river with the girls. Glorious. This week felt long for some reason, but within the long days came exciting surprises, namely the letters/cards I received from family and friends for my upcoming 21st birthday Sunday! I've been good and haven't opened too many, but I couldn't help treating myself to a few. Thank you to everyone who sent me one! Your thoughts, kind words and prayers are so appreciated, and I feel blessed to have such amazing people in my life.

Saturday started just as early as Friday: 9am breakfast but this time, Jarrad joined us for the day. Our first destination was Victoria Theater, where Becca wanted to buy rush tickets to see "Wicked." Originally, I was going to join her, but since I've already seen it twice and still felt that I had much of London left to discover, I opted out. Luckily, when we arrived at the theater, four other girls from our school were there so Becca bought tickets to see the show with them. With everything in order, Becca, Jeff, Jarrad and I headed out to Hyde Park to see the gardens, Princess Diana memorial and Peter Pan statue.

After Hyde Park, Becca went off to the theater while the rest of us headed toward Southern London, near London Bridge, to find a pub broadcasting the Liverpool vs. Manchester United game (I think that's right... I'm really no good with soccer.) As we searched, we past the most amazing smelling food I'd ever encountered; it was like the State Fair x 10. When we finally found a bar (an extremely crowded, standing only bar) I realized I would much rather be exploring London than watching a soccer game I had no actual attachment to, so off I went, following my nose back to the wonderful food.

Turns out, I had discovered yet another fantastic market: Bourogh High Street Market. Later in Becca's guidebook, I read that this is the favorite market of most local chefs due to its organic goods and wide variety of options. Immediately, my senses began to soak up their surroundings: the smells of baked goods mixing with grilled meats, the hundreds of people swarming in and out of booths, the taste of all the samples being offered on every side of me and just the overwhelming satisfaction of something completely and utterly new. I ate falafel in a wheat wrap with mixed veggies and sweet sauce, as well as honey-baked almonds and cashews and bought an organic cinnamon-wheat cookie with pumpkin and sesame seeds to-go. I could have stayed there so much longer, lingering and coveting every item of food I saw others eating, but I had to meet Jeff and Jarrad, so I bought a cup of Earl Grey tea and headed back to the bar.

Once the game had finished, the three of us walked down to London Bridge and then along the Thames River to Tower Bridge. There, Jarrad parted ways with us to go see a flat and Jeff and I wandered across the bridge, back along the Thames, across the London Bridge and toward Shakespeare's Globe Theater. After peeking inside the reception area of the theater (tours cost 9 GBP and had ended for the day) we found ourselves at Tate Modern Art Museum and decided to have a look around. Neither Jeff or myself are crazy about modern art, but since it was free, we gave it a shot. And we promptly reminded why we didn't like modern art. I won't go into detail, but let's just say most of what I saw was more like a disturbing science project gone wrong than anything I would ever label as art.

After that experience, it was time to meet up with the Irish guys I'd met our first weekend in Spain. I've kept in touch with a few of them, and Mark told me that a group was meeting at Roxy, a bar near where we were, to watch the Ireland vs. Scotland rugby match. After a bit of wandering in the wrong direction due to my complete lack of direction, we found the bar, found Mark, ordered some beers and began cheering for Ireland, who ended up winning. I know nothing about rugby, and only vaguely understand it more now that I've watched an entire match, but I do think it's very entertaining and easily more fun to watch than soccer or basketball. In my opinion.

Becca had joined us at the bar by that time, and the Irish boys invited the three of us with them to hang out at Steve's place for a while. We were all tired from our long weekend and gladly welcomed a night of good company and comfortable surroundings, which is exactly what the night ended up being. We spent the next six hours or so talking, laughing, discussing and listening to music (passing around the iPod, each carefully making a selection unlike the previous and that defined who we were, in one way or another.) It was the perfect ending to a weekend in London: making friends out of previous acquaintances while learning more about each other and ourselves.

Sunday morning came quickly, and soon I found myself back on the Tube heading to Heathrow. By 12:15, I was on the airplane back to Spain. 7:30pm found me arriving at my house, taking a shower and sleeping soundly for twelve sweet, sweet hours.

Friday morning found us all not as well rested as we'd hoped to be. My internal alarm clock had decided to go off at about 5:30am that morning, and continue to do so each hour until 8am finally rolled around and my actual alarm sounded. Strangely, the same thing had happened to Jeff, and Becca had also been unable to fall back asleep after waking up too early. During our breakfast (*Free!*) of toast (*Wheat bread!*), instant coffee and what Jeff thought to be a cereal bar, we discussed our game plan for the day. Which is to say, we let Becca tell us all the neat things there are to see that she saw last summer when she studied in London for six weeks and nodded our sleepy heads to agree.

First stop: Buckingham Palace. Not going to lie, I was hoping for something a big more glamorous that what I saw. It truly looked like the palace in Madrid from the outside, not at all like the immaculate building I'd imagined for the Queen of England. We planted ourselves at the fountain across the street from the palace to wait for the changing of the guards (which we thought was at 11... turns out it's at 11:30) and people watched for a while. I immediately felt at home in London, and found it strangely difficult for me to take pictures. I didn't feel like a tourist, rather a resident of the city with so much culture and so much history that I'd expected to feel almost intimidated by it's aura. But I knew I would regret not taking photos, so I got my camera out and started to play my now-natural role as tourist.

We spent about a half-hour watching the ceremony before getting bored (and cold), so we decided to start walking toward Parliament, Big Ben, Westminster and the like. The moment I saw Big Ben, my urge to take photographs resurfaced and it was all I could do to avoid getting hit by one of the purple taxis driving on the left side of the road while trying to get the best shot of this towering clock. I felt the same about Westminster Abbey, with its amazing mixture of materials (the light brown stones make it appear so dignified and intelligent) and Parliament, who's sheer massiveness and grand posture above the Thames River gave me goosebumps and made me crave being a BBC journalist who gets to spend much of their time inside the wondrous building.

The three of us meandered across the Thames (with Becca and Jeff waiting patiently for me to stop taking pictures every four steps), glanced down the river at the London Eye and continued our walk until we realized we were starving, and needed to cross the river again to get back to the Tube stop we needed. Becca wanted to take us to Camden Town for lunch, and Jeff and I readily agreed when she said they had a range of food which included Indian, Thai, Japanese, Chinese, Mexican, traditional English, etc. Yes, I realize I've just described a typical American food court, but this plethora of options is like heaven when you (a) live with a Spanish family who, although it's always well-prepared and delicious, only eats Spanish food (b) have been walking in the cold for the past 4 hours (c) have been craving spicy food the past month or so.

Upon arriving in Camden Town, we had a whole different level of London thrown at us. In place of Big Ben and Westminster were vintage stores and organic food shops. Young people filled the streets wearing the most 90s-grunge clothing I'd seen since, well, the 90s. Gothic style is alive and well here, as is layers, ratted hair, tights, flannel and rock. The energy could be felt immediately, and I wanted so badly to go into all the stores to buy clothes and attempt to blend into this wonderfully eclectic crowd of hipsters. Instead, we made our way to the food, which ended up being just as satisfying (if not more). Jeff and I got fresh Indian food at a stand boasting seven or eight large black skillets full of different levels of spicy, meaty, vegetable goodness to pile on our rice. I chose the non-spicy chicken and vegetarian options while Jeff chose the non-spicy lamb and spicy chicken (which later had him drinking my water and blowing his nose with delight). This freshly prepared, filling and warm food hit the spot completely, and by the time Becca had finished her equally-satisfying nachos, the three of us were ready to keep trucking.

Next stop: National Gallery. Filled with classic art from the 1500s on, the National Gallery is one of the best places to get out of the cold and put another notch on your classy belt. We saw Picasso, Monet (my favorite), Turner, Botticelli, Van Gogh, El Greco, Van Dyke, and many, many more artists. Surrounded by such beauty (and being able to read the ENGLISH descriptions of each masterpiece) made me yet again realize how blessed I am to be able to have such an experience. So despite my very tired eyes and feet, I soaked in all the art I could and savored the beauty, storing it away in my mind to look at later.

Since it was nearing 5pm, we decided to head to Notting Hill to see all the multi-colored homes and yet another section of London. This area of the city is much more quiet and quaint, a lulled sense of security and poise permeating its streets. We wandered down toward the market, stopping at an antique shop with old postcards and war memorabilia then later a tea shop filled with cups and all sorts of tea. Finally we made our way down to the market part of town just in time for me to buy some strawberries and head back (we'd all suddenly realized how hungry we were).

True to our thrifty tourist form, we went to the grocery store and scoured each aisle for the cheapest, and least Spanish food we could find: whole grain breads, hummus, a bag of apples, precut vegetables and more fruit. Back at the hostel, we met up with Jarrad, an Australian guy who'd just moved to London to teach physical education. We chatted as we ate, then the four of us headed down the street to continue our conversation over beers and Strongbow (my favorite.)

As I sat in the airport Thursday night waiting for my plane to London to board, I heard  British fellow chatting on his cell phone. Let me preface my eavesdropping by saying that it is rare to hear English spoken in Spain, especially outside the Fund, so whenever this happens, my ears naturally perk up and I listen. So, I heard English flowing from this English man's mouth and I unintentionally delayed my crossword to hear what he was saying. The bulk of his conversation is not very important (postponing a dinner party due to a late flight, going out to eat the next night, blah blah blah), but the end rang in my ears and immediately drew a smile to my face. Before hanging up, he ended his conversation saying, "Right away. Cheery-o." Cheery-o, indeed.

My flight, Iberia 3168 from Madrid to London, was empty. Let me draw you a picture: not only were the two seats next to me unoccupied, but the rows in front of, behind, and next to me were also empty. Granted, it was a sort of late flight on a Thursday night, but it was still a bit strange to have such a large plane for so few passengers. We landed around 10pm, London time (11pm my time), and I followed the arrows through an empty customs, where I was stopped by a rather unpleasant man who played the "I'm going to pretend to repeat what you said but really change the dates to make sure you were listening" game with me until letting me pass. After a good ten minutes of following more arrows to the underground (the Tube, or Metro), I located a Tube map, found my destination (Hammersmith) and hopped on.

The Tube in London is unlike any other metro system I've ridden on before. The seats are cushioned, like movie theater seats, and the car itself is rather small and compact; I can't stand up straight next to a window or lean comfortably against the doors. Since it was later and a Thursday night, the car I sat in only had a scattering of other people, so we all enjoyed the cushioned seats for the 35 minute Tube ride. When I finally got to my stop, I remembered what website had said ("Our hostel is right across the street from the Tube stop, impossible to miss!") and happily emerged from the underground station into London. And didn't see my hostel. I saw a bar, a bank and a few other random stores, but no St. Christopher's Hammersmith hostel. Naturally, I wandered across the street (where the hostel was supposed to be) and just started walking around in circles for a bit. Finally, I saw that the bar was the downstairs of my hostel, asked the two "bouncers" where reception was and made it upstairs to meet Becca and Jeff, who'd been in London since earlier that afternoon.

All tired, the three of us decided to call it a night around 11:30pm and meet for breakfast at 9am to get started on day one of our "let's see all of London in one weekend" plan. Becca and I climbed the SEVEN flights of stairs to our room (which was #404... but seven flights up...), got ready for bed and passed out.

The week after my visit from the trio (Mom, Dad, Mark) was a busy one school-wise and a gorgeous one weather-wise. For school, I had to write a 6-page, 1.5 spaced history paper on the U.S. and the Spanish Civil War. I tackled and accomplished most of it Tuesday, and finished the rest of it Wednesday between classes. I was still recovering from my cold during the week, so it seemed to drag on forever. Plus, I had London to look forward to, which made the week seem to go by even more slowly (if a three-day-class schedule can go slowly...)

Monday night I hung out with Notre Dame students, a first for me. Rachel, one of the girls from Norte Dame, lives near me in Poligono, and I'd recently begun talking with her more on the bus to-and-from class. We found that we have a lot of the same views and a very similar personality, so Monday night she invited me to join her and 4 other Notre Dame'rs for dinner/sangria. I had a good time getting to know these "new" people (I use quotes since I've actually been going to school with them the past 2 months now) and was dubbed "Minnesota" by one of the boys, since they, like us, never really mingle with the "other" school's students.

Wednesday night was fantastic. We had a spring dinner at the Fund, which we thought would just be appetizer-like food and fruit, because that's what we normally have at these planned dinners. Instead, it was burritos! I know I shouldn't be getting so excited about food, but honestly, after 2 months of the same types of food, we were all thrilled to have a change of pace (and spice). After stuffing ourselves, a bunch of us headed to O'Brien's to watch the soccer game (Barcelona vs. some French team... as you can tell, I'm all about soccer) and hang out. It turned into a dance party after a few hours, and before we knew it, 2am had rolled around. Jeff, Molly and I shared a taxi to Poligono, which ended up being quite an interesting ride.

One of us (I won't name names...) had the bright idea to get off at Luz del Tajo, the mall near our house. Now, when I say near, I mean kind of close, but not really... more like a mile or more from any of our houses. After we get out (and immediately stop the taxi due to my negligence of forgetting my purse in the back), we realize how dumb of an idea this had been. There we were, three stupidly-dressed Americans chilly from the cold night and miles from our houses. We started walking (what other choice did we have?) and played a game to pass the time. As Jeff and I were nearing our houses, Molly spotted another taxi and hailed it; she still had 2 miles to go. I lent her the money she'd need to get back (I was the only one of the three with any money that night... fun fun) and we sent her on her way. Needless to say, this wasn't any of our brightest moments, but it was definitely a moment to remember!

Thursday, our architecture class had a double visit day: first to the once-hospital of Toledo and next to the Cathedral, both very beautiful (although the Cathedral is just a touch gaudy... go figure.) After our Cathedral visit, I caught the Ave to Madrid, hopped on the metro to the airport and took myself through the maze that is Madrid's Airport to catch my flight to LONDON!

Departure day. The trio headed out early, around 6:30am. Mom and Dad popped into our room to collect Mark, and said goodbye to me, their zombie-like daughter. I believe I managed to mumble some sort of a "Goodbye... I love you... safe flight." At least that's what it sounded like in my head.

I slept in until 11:30am, taking the phone off the ringer after someone called my room at 8, 8:30, and 9am. I'm pretty sure someone came in to clean, too, but I haggardly told them to please leave. This also may have been a bad dream. You never can tell.

After I woke up, read a bit and did a crossword, I took full advantage of the amazingly warm and sunny Sunday afternoon and went to El Rastro flea market. The last time I went was our first weekend in Spain, and it had rained. This time, it was 65-degrees, sunny and packed with people. Honestly, I couldn't have been more happy. There I was, surrounded by different languages, people bargaining for better deals and hand-made goods; fantastic. I bought a few scarves (2 euro a piece!), earrings and almost a purse (but 10 euro seemed a bit much to be asking for something I could have made myself if I had the means.) I wandered around until 2:30 and then headed back to the hotel for a final heaven-like shower before checking out at 4pm, hopping on the metro and catching the 5:30 bus to Toledo.

Saturday. While Mom, Mark and Dad ventured to the Palace, I slept in. Let me expand that thought: I treated myself indulgently to a long slumber in a bed so soft and with pillows so cushy that I literally found myself engulfed in the comforts of sleep. I laid in bed a while after waking up to read, eat breakfast (granola, yogurt and an apple) and simply enjoy the wonderful morning that surrounded me. Around 2pm, the trio returned, I got dressed and we headed off to El Parque del Gran Retiro. The sun shone generously and the breeze kept us from becoming too warm as we walked to the park, Starbucks in hand (for myself, at least). We spent a few hours simply enjoying the blooming flowers, green grass and bright sun, none of which have graced Minnesota with their presence yet.

Following the park, we wandered down to the Arc de Triumph and meandered our way back to Plaza del Sol. After trying to find a restaurant which opened before 8:30pm for about a half-hour, we headed back to the hotel and waited until Spain's dinner-time rolled around. We found ourselves at an Italian restaurant which we'd passed a few times before, and thoroughly enjoyed a meal that was completely un-Spanish (with the exception of the shrimp, which still had to be de-shelled before eating). The food tasted wonderful and it was refreshing to not feel embarrassed asking for an English menu, since the other option was Italian.

After dinner, we spent an hour or two playing Hearts in Mom and Dad's room, talking and laughing, our tiredness becoming painfully apparent around 11pm, at which point we said goodnight and I promised to call their room at 6:00am the next morning to make sure they were up and raring to head to the airport. I opted to say my goodbyes then, since I knew what I would be like at 6am, and Mark and I headed off to our own room.

Friday started a bit too early for my liking, but we really didn't have a choice. In order to catch the 12:06pm fast train (Ave) from Madrid to Segovia and check our suitcases (backpack, for me) into the hotel, departure time from Toledo had to be 9am. I'd spent the night before unpacking the suitcase from home, repacking it with items I no longer wanted, putting away the new items (and smiling about my new choices of clothing to wear) and packing my backpack for the weekend. I had checked the forecast for Segovia a few days earlier, so I didn't think it was necessary to check again. When I'd finished, it was somewhere around 2am, hence the "too early for my liking" start to Friday.

Impressively, the trio made it to the bus station in a timely manner and we were all able to get on the 9am bus to Madrid. It was a beautiful, sunshiny day, which gave us a spurt of hope about our travels. Although everything went smoothly (from the bus to the metro to the hotel back to the metro), each step took a bit longer than we had anticipated, and catching the 12:06 Ave seemed to be becoming an impractical goal. When we finally made it to the train station (and figured out where the heck the ticket office was), the woman told me we'd missed the Ave by 3 minutes (are you kidding me?) but that the other train, the slow one, the train that takes 2 hours instead of 30 minutes, would be leaving soon. So, we bought those tickets instead, making the best of the situation by saying that at least this way we'd get to enjoy the scenery on the way there.

Indeed, the scenery was impressive. Segovia is north of Madrid, and located in the mountains, so everything around us was rocky and beautiful as we climbed higher into Spain. However, mountains and further north also equate to colder and worse weather, aka 35-degrees and rainy. When we left Madrid, it was 18-degrees (C). When we arrived in Segovia, it was 5.5-degrees. Needless to say, we were a bit upset that we'd left behind our umbrellas, hats, sweatshirts (dad), mittens (me), scarves (me again!) and other layers.

In true Burkhardt fashion, we decided to conquer the city in record time and return to Madrid, where 18-degrees now sounded like a heatwave. First stop, the Alcazar. Okay, well, to be honest, first stop was lunch. I'd brought my guide book and read about a wonderful restaurant a little bit off the beaten path with an owner who "knows his wines and has a creative kitchen." Located near the Cathedral, it seemed like a good lunch option, so we decided to give it a go. After a good 10-15 minutes of wandering, the street of the restaurant was not to be located and we were frozen. Oh, and we'd walked in a large circle, landing back (almost) where we'd started. Giving up on the restaurant, we went to a place called "La Catedral" (can you guess what building we were next to?) and ordered food.

After warming up a bit and getting our bearings at the restaurant, we headed to the Alcazar (buying a hat along the way for me, the one without a hood or umbrella. Brilliant.) which was conveniently located directly down the street. It's an incredible building, so pretty that Walt Disney chose it to model Cinderella's castle after (that's one of my favorite guide book facts so far). Inside, it is full of old suits of armor, marvelously decorated ceilings, stained glass windows and historical artifacts. Mom grabbed a pamphlet explaining each room, so we were able to learn a bit while wandering around, mouths dropped open.

Our last stop in the Alcazar was the tower. 152-stairs up (which really doesn't sound that bad) ended up being 152 giant spiraling stairs, requiring a full 90-degree knee-bend just to reach the next step. Plus, the same staircase serves to go up as well as down, even though it clearly only fits one person at a time, making it a tediously tight squeeze when people heading down wanted to get by. It was definitely worth the extra exercise, though, because once we reached the top, it had stopped raining for a bit and we could see all of Segovia, as well as the mountains and pure landscape surrounding the city.

By the time we made it back down and out of the Alcazar's tower, it was nearing 5pm. Our goal was to catch the 6:20 Ave back to Madrid, yet again another destination that seemed to be creeping out of our reach since we still had to see the Aquaduct, conveniently located on the opposite side of Segovia, outside the city walls.

After catching a city bus and getting to the Aquaduct, we realized that the 6:20 Ave wasn't going to happen, and decided to aim for the 8:13pm instead. Which was a good choice, because it gave us ample time to enjoy (and ogle at) the Aquaduct. We craned our necks and ooh'd and ahh'd for about an hour before heading inside one of the town's cafes to, yet again, warm up and regroup. Once we could feel our baby toes again (okay, maybe that was just me) we headed back outside, did some window shopping and headed to a bus stop to ensure we didn't miss the 8:13 Ave.

At the bus stop, I got the inclination that perhaps I should ask the nice-looking older couple waiting for the bus with us which bus we should take to get to the train station. Good thing I did, too, because it turned out that the Ave left from a completely different station than the slow train did, and we needed to take the 12 bus, not the 6 bus, to the outskirts of Segovia (literally, middle-of-nowhere) in order to get on the Ave. This ended up being very good news, actually, because the 12 bus came earlier than the 6 bus, and it had just started raining again. So, we hopped on the 12, smiled our goodbye's at the nice couple who had helped us, and made our way to catch the bullet-train, as Mark had taken to calling it.

By now, our luck had changed and we caught the train- which turned out to be more of a 25-minute ride than 30-minute; incredible!- and were back in Madrid in time to head to Corte Ingles to snag some groceries, head back to the hotel and completely veg-out before bed.

Side note: I love showers, but I've never been one to "miss" them or "crave" them. However, after taking a 45-minute long, HOT, double-shower head-Westen-dream-shower, I now miss and crave showers. Last night's 5-minute-quick-the-hot-water-is-almost-gone-and-shoot-there-it-goes shower, during which I get wet, turn the water off, soap up, get wet, turn the water off, wash my hair, get wet, get out, just didn't cut it.

Wednesdays and Thursdays, I have class almost all day, so I couldn't spend as much time as I would have liked to with my family.

Wednesday, I was able to meet them for lunch at one of the restaurants I'd been eying (I walk past it every day on the way to class). The waitress was very friendly and helpful, telling me the house specials and giving me her recommendations. We each chose options from the menu of the day (best price for the most food) and ordered different items so that we could try one another's dishes. I had paella (I think it's becoming an addiction... but I have yet to find a restaurant that makes it as good as Conchi's. I don't think it will happen) and grilled venison... amazing.

After lunch, I had to bid my family farewell. I led them to the shop we'd visited the day before, and pointed them in the direction of the synagogue/museums to give them something to do with the rest of the (cold, rainy) day. We went our separate ways, and I told them I'd see them the next day after class for dinner.

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Thursday I met Mom, Dad and Mark at Zocodover (and was very proud of them for (a) finding their way around Wednesday (b) locating and touring the Cathedral without my help that day (c) getting lost and finding their way back to the hotel Wednesday! That's the best way to see Toledo, after all) and we began our adventure of locating a restaurant serving dinner before 8:30pm (it was 6:30). We failed. To tide ourselves over, we went to one of the cliche cafes in Zocodover for some less-than-wonderful tapas (unfortunate...) and then headed to the hotel to rest a bit before meeting Conchi and Miguel upstairs for drinks at 8pm.

All the idea of Miguel and Conchi, they decided to bid my parents and brother goodbye Thursday night. I can't begin to express how blessed I feel for having such amazing host parents. I've heard near-horror stories from some of my fellow classmates about their families, and each time, I send a "thank you" prayer up to heaven for placing me in the warm home of the Angels.

For about an hour, the six of us chatted (with me playing translator again) about sports, travel, weather and shoes. It still makes me smile to think how even with a language barrier, we were all able to share laughs and be "in the moment" together. What a neat experience.

After bidding Miguel and Conchi farewell, we headed to our last dinner in Toledo at another restaurant I pass each day on the bus. Mom had spotted it earlier in the day and wanted to try it, so we gave it a shot. I must have been more tired than usual, because my translation of the menu was way off: instead of bean soup, Dad ordered green beans and ham. Instead of stuffed chicken breast, Mom got fried chicken. Instead of pork, Dad got partridge. I really made a mess of things... however, they were very good sports about it, we did some swapping and still ended up full.

Since we were going to meet early the next morning at the bus station to go to Madrid and then Segovia, we tried not to linger too long after dinner. Dad walked me to the bus stop and waited with me until the 62 came (I had the suitcase full of clothes/toiletries my family kindly brought me) and we went our separate ways until Friday at 8:30am.

Tuesdays I don't have class, so I dedicated the whole day to showing my family "my town." I met them at the hotel (owned by my host-dad's best friend) at 11, found out they hadn't yet eaten and proceeded to think of where to take them to breakfast. Spaniards aren't big on breakfast here, and my family is definitely the breakfast-eating kind, so this wasn't a small task. My mom is as addicted to tea as I am to coffee, and my dad and brother have bottomless stomachs, so the best thing I could think of was a cafe/restaurant. We found one at the bottom of the hill near the bus stop, and luckily they had breakfast - a whopping three choices of goods: croissants, churros with chocolate (fried bread with hot, melted chocolate) and donuts. They were good sports about it, especially once I reassured them that Conchi would stuff them full at lunch that afternoon.

By noon we were hitting the (cold and rainy) streets of Toledo, ready to conquer the city of twisted streets. I walked them down to my school, showed them around a bit (as well as introduced them to Jenna and Jeff, whom we bumped into in the lobby) then proceeded to take them on the mini-tour of the part of town I know well. We walked down past the Cathedral and up toward the synagogue. On our way to the synagogue, Mom spotted a shop that sells Lladro, well-known ceramic that her aunt used to collect. We gladly stepped inside (the rain hadn't let up yet) and were greeted by very friendly people. The man spoke Spanish, so I conversed with him, while Mom and Dad spoke with the woman, who spoke English.

The woman noticed me looking at the rings made of gold and steel (Toledo's specialty design) and said that their other shop just down the street had more jewelry. She said it was a family business, and that her father would love to show us how he made the designs out of gold leaf, if we were interested (as if she had to ask). We followed them to their other store, and were treated to a special showing of the artistry that is creating genuine Toledo jewelry. Afterward, we wandered about the store and each found something that caught our eye: an innately decorated pen for my dad, earrings for my mom, a ring for me and rings to gift for Mark. Later, Mark found a switchblade that had his name written all over it (not really, but it does have a "Toledo" inscription on it) with the same pattern. The family was more than generous, giving us a 15% discount for our purchases, and wishing us the best as we headed back into the cold.

We barely had time to get back to the bus stop before lunch (I told Conchi we'd be home by 2 to eat) so of course that was the time I happened to get turned around and then lost. We wandered up-hill (again...) for a ways before I caved and asked for directions. Back down the hill we went, until I began to see familiar landmarks, which miraculously lead to Zocodover. I swear the streets here move during the night, I always seem to find myself in a familiar-looking yet not-quite-the-same location at least once a week.

We made it "home" by 2:15, and then the real fun began- the mixing of my families.

First of all, my real family is about a foot-two feet taller than my Spanish family, which meant that the exchange of kisses (a cultural norm in Spain) was amusing to witness, especially between my brother (6' 3") and Conchi (5' 2"). Once they said their hello's (words known by both families in the other language), it was time for me to play translator. I felt hesitant at first, not sure if things would be awkward due to the language barrier, but lunch ended up going really well. Miguel showed off his hunting skills (animal heads, guns, pictures, etc.), Conchi and my mom chatted (through me) about cooking and meals and family, Elena talked about her trip to Mexico, we all conversed about the police force and the differences/similarities between Spain and the U.S.- it was a lively and entertaining conversation. At one point, while Conchi was upstairs, Miguel decided to tell us about Conchi's two loves in life: shopping and the beach. He then proceeded to say that when she dies, he thinks it would be appropriate to cremate her and spread her ashes in all her favorite stores. He said this with a very straight face, which made me laugh even harder while telling my family what he'd just told me. I love his dry sense of humor.

Conchi had set up the basement for lunch for the special occasion and had also prepared three courses: tortilla espanol with ham and cheese for the first course, garbanzo beans and chicken and sausage (2 kinds) and carrots and potato with salad for the second course, and an array of pastries for dessert. She completely stuffed my family (much to my delight), but they all enjoyed her cooking just as much as I always do.

After two hours of eating and chatting, Miguel offered to drive us all to his favorite spot overlooking Toledo. On the way, he kept spouting out facts and telling me to translate for him, which I'm sure was entertaining to all of us, since most of the words I can understand and comprehend in Spanish don't really have literal translations into English. Anyway, we got to his spot, parked the car and hiked down the rocks (in his work clothes) to show us. It's the location from which El Greco chose to paint Toledo, and I can see why. A few of the pictures I took/Miguel took are in the "Random." album above.

Miguel kindly dropped us at our hotel (after poking fun at me for not realizing there is a shortcut from the hotel to Zocodover) and we took a siesta, which my family was craving after the amazing meal we'd just eaten. After siesta, we meandered back into town and walked around a bit before becoming too cold and wet to want to walk further, bringing us to a cafe for some wine, water and conversation.

This past week blessed me with an unusual, but wonderful, occasion: two families at once. My mom, dad and brother came to visit me for the week (unfortunately Hilary couldn't make it) and got to meet my host mom, dad and sister. The weather, never one to cooperate, decided to be feisty, cold and rainy, but we made the best of it.

The original plan was for me to meet them at the bus station in Toledo at 6pm Monday. However, I realized that (a) buying bus tickets and locating the bus ticket window is tricky for non-Spanish speakers at the bus station (b) it would be fun to surprise my family and (c) I had nothing better to do Monday afternoon than to go to Madrid after my morning class to greet my family a few hours early. So that's what I did! I caught the 2:30 bus to Madrid, arrived at 3:30 and waited at the bus station near the metro exit until I spotted my family: tall, blond (Mark), hooded-sweatshirt wearing Americans... a wonderful sight to my eyes!

Mom didn't recognize me at first, but Mark caught on quickly. After exchanging hugs and receiving the obligatory up-down-how-are-you-looking-and-feeling review from my mom, we bought our tickets for Toledo and headed upstairs to wait for the bus.

The bus ride, only 45 minutes, made for the perfect time to update my family on the current going-ons of my life and to hear about what was new in Minnesota, as well. Even though we Skype and e-mail, it's always nicer to get these updates in person... I felt more connected and in-touch with everything afterward.

After walking to the hotel (all up-hill, like the majority of Toledo), we relaxed for a bit and then ventured into the night to find a few necessary groceries for the weary travelers. By the time we got to the store and bought what we needed, it was time for me to go to class. Luckily, Mark is gifted at directions and was able to remember how to get back to the hotel. Going our separate ways, we agreed to meet at the hotel at 11am the next day so that I could take them on a tour of Toledo before bringing them home to meet my "other" family.

I'm not really sure how this happened, but it's Wednesday. Meaning, the school week is over tomorrow. Meaning, I once again was conquered by the whirlwind time-warp I seem to have been in since arriving in Spain. Well, I'll just play some catch-up then!

This past weekend, Becca, Anna and myself went to Barcelona. It was one of the few places I already had in mind before I arrived in Spain that was a "top choice" for a weekend trip, so needless to say, my excitement level was up there. We caught the midnight bus from Madrid (different bus station than we've ever been to! A little adventure right from the start) to Barca, which was fine even though the temperature could have been a bit warmer and the stops less frequent. Becca and I also misread the bus chart when booking our tickets, so instead of sitting in the way back in our own little corner, we'd chosen the very front seats of the bus. It ended up being kind of fun, though, since we were able to see everything as well as be the first ones on and off the bus.

At about 7:45, our bus pulled into Estacion Nord (they speak Catalan in Barcelona, not Castillan Spanish like we do in our region, so everything is very different there. And they're very proud (stubborn) so it was a bit of a challenge at times) and we headed to the metro to begin our weekend of being touristy.

It took us a bit to find our hostel (it wasn't exactly clear online how to get there, but we managed!), dropped off our massive backpacks and headed back to the heart of Barcelona: Plaza de Catalunya and Las Ramblas. First, we treated ourselves to some well-earned Starbucks. I don't know what it is, but their grande dark-roast coffee with a shot of espresso and steamed soy milk is just better here; creamier, sweeter and all-together more satisfying. Mmm. (Although I'm sure you make a wicked whatchamacallmydrink, too, Matt!) After our treat, we headed down Las Ramblas toward the free walking tour meeting spot, advertised by our hostel.

Las Ramblas is the main stretch in the middle of Barcelona. Filled with flower vendors and street performers, it is enough to keep you entertained for a solid half-hour to hour, depending on your pace. Off of Las Ramblas is la Boqueria, the fruit/veggie/meat/fish/etc. market... basically a giant farmer's market. The atmosphere, full of color and life, is incredible there, and it was one of my favorite places. If I hadn't had my hands full with freshly baked whole-grain rye bread, fresh fruit and my purse, I would have taken many more pictures.

Also off of Las Ramblas was the street we were looking for. We got to the meeting location just in time for our walking tour, and joined the large group of curious, English speaking tourists ready to learn about Barcelona's history and hear some fun-facts to share (like I'm about to do!) after our visit.

--To be continued...--

Alrighty, day one of Barcelona continues. It was a gorgeous, sunny day, so the walking tour fit in nicely with our plans to soak up as much sun as possible. The tour concentrated on the old Gothic part of Barcelona: the heart of the city. It took us to:
-the plaza where Gaudi's first public artwork is displayed (a lamppost)
-Plaza de Orwell (named after George Orwell to make the city seem more "worldly" for the 1992 Olympics... also known as Plaza Trippy because it is where the most drugs are sold/consumed in one spot in the city)
-the house where Picasso's father used to live which is adjacent to the street which used to house Barcelona's Red Light District (also where Picasso found a few of his "models" and his "first"...)
-the ruins of Barcino, the ancient Roman town Barcelona is built on top of
-the government buildings and main protest area of town
-the plaza which houses the church Gaudi called his own, the only place he would leave his plans for La Sagrada Familia for and also the place he was headed when hit by a streetcar and left to die
-and a few other places that are included in my pictures/captions.

After our tour, Anna, Becca and I were pooped, so we headed back to the hostel, checked into our room and laid down for a much-needed (and earned) siesta. About an hour later, Anna's friend from home, Cat, who's studying in France, met up with us at the hostel. She was the perfect addition to our little group.

Once we revived ourselves and wiped the sleep from our eyes, we decided to head off to find some quality food. I wanted to find fideua, Barcelona's version of paella, but the restaurant we went to ended up being "out." I was bummed, but the paella I had still hit the spot. It was Cat's first time eating paella and drinking sangria, the national drink of Spain, so we decided it was a very successful meal, indeed.

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Today was absolutely gorgeous out. And to make it even better, it was Tuesday, which means I had no class!!! I spent the morning writing postcards, studying and snoozing on my balcony, soaking up as much sun as possible. I can't even describe to you how wonderful it felt to literally feel the warmth of the sun seeping into my skin and warming my face.

After lunch, I took advantage of my free time and went for a run while listening to one of Greg Boyd's sermons, something I enjoyed immensely and plan on doing much more often in the future. I've been missing church lately, and it was a good pick-me-up and reminder of the season of Lent approaching. The sermon was about being Jesus to others, and how the Kingdom is already here. I needed to hear it and be reminded how important it is to live a Christ-like life, especially when people are first meeting me, like here in Spain.

The run helped me to settle down and concentrate on my studying, which is good since I have three midterms tomorrow. Which reminds me, I'd better get back to that reading... :)

Exciting news: I'm going to visit Emily Boldt in Jerez, Spain this weekend and go with her to Carnival in Cadiz! I can't wait. We've been playing phone/Facebook tag for weeks now, and we finally connected in time for me to reserve a bus ticket for Friday and head down there. Free place to stay + old friend + Carnival = perfect weekend. Plus I can study on the bus! Very nice.

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Sunday night- 10:27pm
Hours since I've slept: 36 and counting
Hours I spent on a bus/train the past three days: almost 21
Hours spent in Cadiz for Carnaval: 15
Number of Germans I met: 6
Number of German Carnaval songs I learned: almost 4 ("Red Horse" is still stuck in my head)
Amount of people dressed in the most original costumes I've ever seen: thousands
Ways to describe my weekend: zero
Attempts I'll make to try and describe my weekend: countless

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This past Sunday, we celebrated my grandma's 75th birthday. Normally, Miguel and Elena don't come to dinner with us, but today they made an appearance. So did my uncle's best friend and his wife, along with their twin 9-month-old babies, Andrea and Diego. Chispe even came along! It was quite the gathering.

Since I'm used to being the only young adult at these gatherings, having my brother and sister with me was refreshing, to say the least. It took a lot of pressure off, and I was able to listen and participate in conversations rather than be bombarded with questions. My uncle's best friend's wife is from Mozambique, Africa, and moved here four years ago when she got married. I could tell she was a little slower when speaking Spanish (another plus for me!), but the big surprise came when she sat next to me on the couch and started speaking in English!
  "In my country, I used to practice my English quite a bit, and I miss it. No one here speaks any!" she said to me quietly, carefully. "Is it okay if we speak in English a little?"

YES! What a blessing for both of us. She was able to tell me how she misses her family in Africa, and I was able to tell her about my experience here without using the same three verbs on repeat. She's a sweetheart, and I hope they join us for dinner again soon.

The best part of the meal was definitely messing with Claudia, though. Claudia is twelve and shows every sign of a typical pre-teen. A few days earlier, Elena had given Sergio (our neighbor and Miguel/Elena's close friend) Claudia's cell phone number as a joke. So when Valentine's Day rolled around, Sergio pretended to be a secret admirer from Claudia's class, sending her sappy "love" texts. Well, this put Claudia over the edge with excitement, and she spent the entire meal freaking out to Elena and me about it. Of course, we couldn't stop laughing, but we egged her on and got Miguel in on it, too. Eventually, Claudia was so worked up that we gave her enough hints to know it was Sergio, but that hour or so of her trying to think of the perfect response was priceless.

Since I was in on the joke, too, it allowed Elena and I to bond. After Claudia calmed down, we chatted and joked, and when the uncle started taking pictures, Elena made sure I was in them next to her.

The same happened with Miguel that day. Since it was Claudia's birthday last week, we had a cake for both her and Grandma. On the cake were the number candles, spelling out "12." Miguel and I both looked at it, looked at each other, and then I said, "So, your grandma's twelve..." His response? "Yep, looks like I have a twelve-year-old grandma."

I know this doesn't sound like much, but it's so important for me to know that my family is aware of my sense of humor. I feel more capable and confident when these little situations pop up. And I think they'll keep happening from here on out, too.

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Today I took full advantage of not having class. I did homework in the morning, talked with Conchi a bit, went to the group photo at the Fund at 3, then took an amazing walk before heading home for siesta. I walked the same route as the buses, down from Zocodover out of the city walls, over the river and up until the highway begins and the path ends.

Before I left Casco (old city), I found the hotel my host-dad really wants my parents and brother to stay in when they come visit. His friend owns it, and he's been talking to me about it for the past week. After lunch, he even gave me the hotel's brochure, so I felt obliged to go check it out.

It's tucked away into one of Toledo's many hills, up a random street that has extremely limited access, but it's a very sweet, comfortable place, and I feel good knowing that it's owned by a friend of Miguel's. I asked the receptionist, Luis (the owner's son), about room prices and such, and he was very helpful.

I told my dad later that I went there, and he responded by asking me why I didn't call him?!?! He really wanted to go with me, apparently, so we're going back Saturday to check things out.

I love it when he gets passionate about things: taking me to the best view of Toledo to take pictures, taking me out for good wine with him and Conchi, showing me the hotel, showing me his old house, talking about the economy, talking about the dog, movies... we chatted a lot today. After he gets some wine/beer in him, he's a chatterbox. I love it. And when he doesn't understand what I'm saying, he gets really close to my face, scrunches his nose, and makes me speak really slowly. So far, I've started laughing every time. By far the best thing we did today was brush and put Chispe's hair into a clip. So great.

Anyway, I walked a good 45 minutes or so, caught the bus back home, took a siesta, then headed back to the Fund for a special dinner with flamenco dancers. It was fun for a while, but I missed Conchi's food. She enjoyed it when I told her that :)

I wasn't sure how I'd feel being the only child, but so far I like it. Even though Miguel did come home for the night tonight... he made it a whole day away... what a man.

The next adventure is booked and ready to go! Becca and I are going to Barcelona the last weekend in February, and I couldn't be more exciting. We still have to find a hostel (most of the ones we saw today were all mixed-rooms, and we're not too pumped about the idea of sharing one bathroom with 4-6 boys), but we have our bus tickets ready to go and a map from Jose Luis to help us choose the sights we want to see.

Other exciting news: I got a Valentine's Day letter from my grandparents today! I love my grandma's train of thought. She tells me absolutely everything that she's thinking, and I adore it. She also sent me pictures of the cabin, and I got goosebumps thinking of the time I'll actually be able to spend there this summer. How fabulous!

This weekend's plans are still up in the air. I would love to go visit Emily Boldt in Jerez (near Cadiz), but she hasn't returned any of my texts or messages. I would also really like to go to Salamanca, but I haven't gotten my act together completely. Always something more to do...

Now that the whirlwind of planning has calmed, the after-effects have begun. I like to think of myself as a confident person who makes wise decisions based on a good amount of thought and care. However, looking back on the past two weeks, I see that I may have been sucked into the excitement and idea of adventure more than I might like. Am I being too ambitious attempting to conquer eight countries in 24 days? Probably. I feel almost hypocritical, recalling times I scoffed at individuals for thinking they could spread their time here so thin. But my least thought-out decision that has been haunting me is Greece. One week in Greece is not sufficient, first of all. Greece requires an entire vacation to itself! Secondly, the money I paid for my plane ticket to Greece (just the ticket) is more than my rail-pass and one of my flights combined. That's not okay! Last of all, my weekends are full and I'm still longing to see different parts of Spain. I actually ache thinking about this poor decision. I came here to see Spain, and yet I find myself potentially stuck with a plane ticket to see another - albeit amazing - part of Europe instead of a bus ticket to explore the country I'm calling home at the moment. Let's hope there a string to be pulled that will allow me to undo this undesirable agenda.

---

Sorry for that rant. I guess it's about that time where things have stopped being quite so magical and reality is starting to seep in. But for now, let's push that little stinker to the side and chat about Avila. After going out Friday night (and having the pool table to ourselves at O'Briens... nice!) four of us set off for Avila early Saturday morning. Jeff, Ben, Becca and I caught the 9am bus to Madrid and the 11:00 bus to Avila. It was a gorgeous day, with absolutely no clouds in the sky and the perfect just-need-a-light-sweater temperature. We snagged maps at the tourist office first, then ventured into the most well-preserved walled city in Europe.

To climb up and onto the wall cost 2.50, so we gladly dished out the cash and embarked up the steep, stone stairway. Once on top, all I wanted to do was take a million pictures and cross my fingers that they could capture what I saw. Actually, that's how I felt the rest of the day. The cathedral and churches and wall and city was enchanting, and the perfect blue sky made the most wondrous backdrop. It was heaven.

We explored until 5pm or so, picking numbers and looking up those numbered sights on our map. We were all a bit tired, so it was a good thing we'd decided to catch the 6pm bus back instead of waiting for the 8:30pm. I put details about Avila in my picture captions, and it's worth checking out (just for the information alone!) I completely support UNESCO for making this beauty a World Heritage sight. It was a splendid day trip. Just splendid. :)

From 6pm until 9pm, Laura and I tediously scanned the internet for the cheapest, most reliable and feasible ways to travel after classes. Here's what we came up with: Eurail pass ($330; about $66/per train ride) for 4 countries (Italy, Austria, Czech Republic and Germany) to use between Milan and Vienna, Vienna and Prague, Prague and Berlin, Berlin and Munich + one more. Then, we'll be flying from Frankfurt to Brussels ($70), Brussels to Stockholm (with a stop in Berlin: $15), Stockholm to Ireland ($45) and Ireland back to Madrid (?)

So, the grand total for 24 days of traveling (not including buses around Italy/to Switzerland and the bus taking us along the Romantic Road in Germany) comes to about $500. In addition to that, we'll need to get hostels for 18 of the 24 nights, which, at around $20 a night more or less, will be $360. Which puts us at about $860. If we play our cards right, and keep tabs on each others' spending/food and whatnot, we will be able to do everything we want for under $2,000. Not bad if you ask me.

However, after 3+ hours of calculating and searching and staring at a computer, I need to rest. Tomorrow is the field trip to El Escorial and we need to be at the bus stop at 8:45, which is earlier than I've woken up the past three weeks. Saturday we're taking a trip to Avila which, according to my professors, should be pretty wonderful.

Thus I bid thee goodnight and a marvelous weekend.

It's taken me a while, but I think I'm finally getting used to how the Europeans mark time here. After noon, it's not "1" again, it's "13." The first few weeks, I had to do a lot of adding/subtracting in order to figure out what the heck time it was, but recently (i.e. as I've been booking all my flights) it's gotten to be easier.

Speaking of booking flights, Laura and I finalized our after-the-semester travel plans today. Here's the itinerary:

• April 26-27: Florence
• April 28: Siena + a hill town near Siena to go to a vineyard
• April 29: Venice
• April 30: Milan
• May 1-2: Bern, Switzerland
• May 3-4: Vienna
  
• May 5-6: Prague
• May 7-8: Berlin
• May 9: Munich and castle (I forgot the name of it, but it was a runner-up to be one of the Seven Wonders of the World)
• May 10: The "Romantic Road" in Germany (bus tour through the heart of Germany from Munich to Frankfurt)
• May 11: Frankfurt and the castles along Rhine River
• May 12-13: Brussels
• May 14-16: Stockholm, Sweden and the fjords
• May 17-18: Ireland

Laura and I spent at least three hours researching flights, trains and buses, and managed to find great deals for all the traveling we're going to be doing. No flight will cost us more than $100 (and that's dollars, not Euro), and the trains were all under $40. If we play our cards right, the only thing that will be empty by the end of our 24-day sprint around Western Europe will be our energy supply. But we'll survive.

New train of thought: Today, half of the students living with families this semester met with the program directors of the Fund to chat about our experiences and ask questions about what's normal/what's not. Our group of 10 or so met with Jose Luis. It was the first time I'd talked with him, but he was incredibly nice and very informative. Everyone in our group lives in Poligono, and we're all having similar experiences with food and interacting socially with our families. We had a good laugh when he told us that having food "literally shoved onto our plates and into our mouths" is completely normal, and that it took him 30 years to convince his mother and grandmother that he was, indeed, capable of being full.

I'm becoming more comfortable making (or attempting to make) jokes in Spanish, too. For example, when it was my turn to say how my experience was going, I said that I love my family, just not the fact that everything is soaked in oil. Jose answered by saying that yes, it can be a bit much, but at least it's not butter. I agreed, but responded that it was still difficult for me to see my mom "frying eggs in a swimming pool of oil, then asking me if I wanted two or three." I'm glad I'm becoming more comfortable with that sort of conversation, because it would be really difficult for me if I thought my family didn't think I had any sort of personality or humor. I think they're starting to see that I do, though.

Also, my dad gave me a ride to class today. It was one of the few times we'd spent just the two of us, and, since he told me I had to talk more during the ride back from Conchi's parents' house Sunday, I made sure to ask him lots of questions and attempt to prolong the conversation as much as possible. He told me about the two restaurants one of his best friends owns (one of which is built into the mountain overlooking Toledo and is the "restaurant of choice" when the King and his wife visit; he said he'll take me the next time he and Conchi go there!), the hotel his other friend owns (he wants my family to stay there when they come), how he used to live in "Casco" (old Toledo) and then said that one weekend when it's warmer and I don't travel, he'll take me to the best view of Toledo so that I can take pictures. It was the first time I drove the actual streets of Toledo, and it was pretty terrifying! At one point, he had to reverse and take a different angle, otherwise he would have lost both mirrors. Even though it was only a 10 minute drive, I felt like I got to show him that I: (a) am capable of speaking (b) am not a hermit who has no personality (c) am genuinely interested in his life.

Basically, I feel as though things are coming along. Spring is on it's way, travel plans are made, my family and I are becoming more connected and life is good. This week is going to be a long one, but as long as I take the time to breathe and soak in my surroundings once in a while, I'll be just fine.

Awakened to a bright, sun-shining morning, today became my day to explore. A group of us had been talking about going to Consuegra to see the windmills, made famous by Miguel de Cervantes in his infamous book, Don Quixote de la Mancha. It's only a 1 hour bus ride from Toledo, so six of us gathered together at the bus station at 2pm to catch the 2:30 bus.

The route took us through a part of Spain I hadn't seen before: acres of olive trees, red soil and mountains. I never really had an image of Spain before coming, but I didn't think it would be so desert-like. I'm actually quite amazed that anything grows in the dry-looking dirt. Think Arizona, only more red (like the red rocks of Sedona). Anyway, it was a very pleasant trip, and we arrived around 3:30, precisely in the middle of siesta.

It was eerie how quiet and abandoned Consuegra seemed; we didn't see any actual humans for at least 5-10 minutes, and then it was just a motorcycle. Facing the molinos (windmills), we began the hike up the mountain to get a closer look. Little did we know, but there are actually stairs that lead to the windmills. However, we took the more adventurous route and literally climbed the hill, using the random boulders to hoist ourselves up. The higher we climbed, the more windy it got. By the time we were half-way, it was hard to hear each other, let alone keep our balance. Once we reached the top, we tested our luck and saw how far we could lean into the wind, trusting it to hold us up. Let's just say, a few of us had some pretty good angles going!

Because of the wind, we became cold quickly. But it was still sunny, so we took advantage of our fortune and began snapping photos. After an hour or so, we'd sauntered all the way to the old castle (currently under construction), saw that it was 3 euro to enter, and decided to head back to the bus stop. It was only 4:45 when we got back into town (still dead), and the bus didn't come until 5:55, so we sat in their Plaza de Espana (such an original name!) eating lunch and trying to convince ourselves that the sun was doing its job and keeping us warm despite the strong wind.

By 5, we'd had enough and decided that a somewhat enclosed shelter (i.e. the bus stop) was better than wishing the sun to be warmer, so we trucked over and huddled silently until the bus arrived. Even though it was a relatively short trip, it was definitely worth the time and 9-euro bus ride. It felt good to do something active and take advantage of a bright blue-sky day. And now I can say I took in the same, inspiring view as Cervantes. Hopefully it will do for me the same wonders as it did for him.

I woke up this morning with the resolution that I was going to go exploring. I wanted to explore my neighborhood as well as catch the bus to Toledo to explore down by the river; maybe get lost in the web of streets that create this city. But as I slid my feet into my dual-action slipper/shoes, I heard the pitter-patter of rain on my window. Annoyed and disappointed, I resolved to make this a homework day.

With my new resolution, I went through my daily morning activities (brushing the teeth, washing the face, etc.) and headed down to the kitchen to snag some fruit for breakfast.

"Buenos dias, Conchi," I greeted my host-mom.
"Buenos dias, Elena... estaba nevado!" She answered.

Did I heard her right, I wondered? It was snowing? I repeated what she'd said, and she confirmed that yes, indeed, it had been snowing earlier, and all the little kids at the elementary school across the street had been shrieking with pleasure at this foreign wonder in Toledo.

All I could think: Ugh.

Then, Elena came barreling down the stairs talking, er, slurring a million words a minute saying who knows what. Conchi got all excited again and said, "Esta nevado ahora!" Great. It's snowing now. She went over to the door, threw it open, and there it was, my dreaded, Minnesotan enemy, coming down hard.

"No es comun para nevar, Elena... esto nunca occurie!" They both said, reminding me how strange it is for snow to fall in Toledo. Madrid, yes. But here? Never!

"It must be following you!" Conchi said, before bursting into laughter.

Which actually is funny, because my mom said the same thing. It was colder than usual when we went to Italy my tenth grade year, it was much colder than usual when we went to Austria and Prague my senior year ("The coldest winter we've had in decades!" exclaimed the tour guide.) And here I am, in Spain, watching it snow. Big, fluffy flakes filling my balcony and dominating my view.

I might need that cup of coffee after all.

A few things about Spain that have happened/peaked my interest so far:

1. A woman on the bus with blazing red hair. Not just a "hint" of red. Straight up red.

2. An old man who appeared to be in his 80s or 90s refusing to sit in an open seat on the bus. He stood instead.

3. My anthropology professor has worn the same pair of dark green corduroy pants every class period; three weeks in a row so far.

4. I was asked for directions at the bus stop, and it made my day.

5. My host-dad was proud of me for being able to understand the conversation he was having with my host-mom. Then he said he was going to start talking faster, and my amusement faded a bit.

6. The fashions here really aren't that different than in the US. There are a lot of scarves, boots, skinny jeans, leggings, peacoats and baggy T-shirt/dresses. However, a style that is starting here and may be hitting the US is a twist on the parachute pants: denim material (usually) with a very baggy crotch area that's tight on the bottom. I think they're hideous, but then again I said the same thing about skinny jeans a few years ago.

7. There are little dogs everywhere here. Seriously.

8. On accident, I said "Presidente Zapato" instead of "Zapatero" when trying to talk politics with my mom, which ended with her laughing at me. Why is this funny? Because "zapato" means "shoe."

9. There's dog poop everywhere.

10. People here eat more French bread than I thought possible. It's impressive, really. They use it as a scoop with the hand they don't hold their utensil in. No member of my family is without a piece of bread in their left hand during any mean. Ever.

11. My host-mom always gives me double the amount of food she gives everyone else. I was raised to "eat what's in front of me," but lately, I've had to break that rule. My stomach can't expand that far every day.

12. When I ordered regular coffee with a shot of espresso, the woman serving me looked as if I'd asked her to shoot me. I guess that's a lot of caffeine, even here in Europe.

13. If you don't like olive oil, don't come to Spain. You'll starve.

14. None of the sitcoms here have a plot, so don't even try to understand them. My goal is just to try and interpret what the heck they're saying... half the time. Maybe 1/4.

15. It's extremely amusing to watch American movies dubbed in Spanish, especially if you know the actors' voices. "Beethoven" was fantastic- Rice sounded like a chipmunk.

16. When the people here describe a dog barking, they say, "Wow! Wow!" instead of "Woof! Woof!"

17. Physical humor is the most common form here. Sarcasm doesn't go too far (usually.)

18. If you don't have a piece of french bread in the opposite hand you hold your fork with at all times while eating, something is wrong with you.

19. Smiling at others in public isn't considered polite, it's considered creepy.

20. "Postre" means anything sweet: fruit, cake, cookies, etc.

21. A meal without the television is an awkwardly silent event.

22. Being 5' 11" doesn't make you tall, it qualifies you as a giant.

Okay, I know it's a lot colder in Minnesota right now, but it's pretty darn cold and gross here, too. Yesterday I had my mittens and scarf on, and was wishing I'd brought my hat. Today it rained all day; I'm thankful I didn't have to leave the house. Hopefully this weather passes soon, because I'm tired of it. It's supposed to be spring here soon, and I want to go exploring!

Enough whining, though. This past weekend six of us ventured to Sevilla. We left after classes Thursday to take the night bus there from Madrid. While this was a fine idea and worked out well in the end, it was also exhausting and I don't think I'd recommend it to anyone. It's a six-hour bus ride from Madrid to Sevilla, so leaving at 11 put us there around 5am. We stopped half-way for a bathroom/food break, which is when funny incident #1 happened. It could have been that we were loopy due to our tiredness or just the fact that these things tend to happen (more so when you're in a foreign country I feel), but here's what went down: our bus driver announced that we were taking a 15 minute break when we stopped. So everyone on the bus filed out to used the restrooms and whatnot, and then most of us got back on right away. The six of us returned to our seats after about 10 minutes and were chatting when all of a sudden the bus driver starts to pull away. First, we did a quick check to make sure all of us were there. Then, out of the corner of our eye, we saw a man running for the bus. Well, none of us really knew what to do, so we just kind of looked at each other. Then, Jenna starts to yell, "Senor! Hay un hombre!" (Sir, there's a man!) She keeps yelling (mind you, we're in the very back of the bus) and then decides to go up to the driver to tell him he has to turn around because he left someone behind. She's up there for a while, and we're not turning around. When she gets back, she said that the driver had nodded and told her to sit down. That's when it starts to dawn on us: we just left to get gas and were going back to get the others. So that was stupid American moment #1.

The rest of the ride went smoothly. I slept (thanks to my extra scarf-turned-blanket and eye mask) and the other girls did as well, more or less. When we pulled into the Sevilla station, none of us had any idea where the heck we were or where we were going. We decided it would be best to get a taxi (since the buses wouldn't start running for at least another 2 hours) and, since there were six of us, had to get two. We told the driver the address and name of our hostel, and that's when we started to get nervous. Neither driver had ever heard of the hostel (butterflies began...) and neither knew exactly where 13 was on Menendez Alvaro street. After a few minutes of driving, our taxi driver pulled over, pointed to his left and said, "It's somewhere in there." Mind you, it was 5:30am, dark, foggy and we were in a strange town. Great. So we piled out of the taxi and started to wander. Which is when embarrassing American moment #2 happened. We find a 13 ("a" being the key word) and it appears to be a hostel. Not our hostel, though. However, while we're regrouping, Jenna decides to ring the bell. A woman answers, and all we can get out is, "Es un hostel?" (Is this a hostel?) She answers yes, so we ask if it's Samay hostel, which is what we'd booked. That's when this poor woman who we'd just woken comes down, looks at us and says that no, it is not Samay hostel. She's never heard of it. Great. So we apologize, turn around, and start looking for another 13 Menendez Alvaro.

Turns out, ours was the one hostel without a large sign. Instead, they opted for the more covert painted-on-the-door tactic. Anyway, we had to wake the man running the late-night shift as well, but didn't feel as bad since Samay has 24-hour reception. Kicker: we can't check in until 12:30pm. It's 6am. Nothing is open. So, we improvise. We go for a walk.

Molly had been to Sevilla a few years ago, so she kind of remembered her way around. The air was completely fogged up, so the whole city had an eerie yellow, hazy look to it. We wandered over to the Cathedral (absolutely enormous... check out the pictures) and then continued wandering more until we found an open cafe. It was closer to 8 by then, so we ordered some breakfast and sat/chatted as long as we could. Becca and Jenna hadn't been able to sleep on the bus, so they were feeling pretty worn out and wanted to hang out in the lobby of the hostel until check-in. As we were leaving the cafe, most of us were walking in a single-file line. Most of us except Jenna, that is. Jenna was walking a little to the right behind the rest of us. Why is this important? Because it has to do with embarrassing moment #3: Jenna walking into a glass door. Yup. Smack! She walked right into it. Now, we were all out of it by this point, and therefore had little to no self-restraint left. So we laughed. It really was funny; just like a movie. But since Jenna hadn't been able to sleep at all yet, it wasn't quite as entertaining to her. We tried to keep our giggles inside, and managed to do so until we dropped her and Becca off. However, as soon as Molly, Taylor, Anna and I left the hostel, we burst out in laughter again. It was just too much.

(To be continued.. I'm exhausted)

---

Okay, it is now Thursday, Feb. 5 at 11:12pm. I honestly am dumbfounded about how quickly time goes here. Which reminds me of 7th grade when Mr. Orth asked us if the saying, "Time flies when you're having fun!" was a legitimate saying or not. We tried to argue that yes, time does seem to go more quickly when you're not paying attention to it, but he said that no matter what, time goes at exactly the same speed.

Anyway, after we left Jenna and Becca at the hostel, the four of us made our way to Corte Ingles. Molly insisted that she didn't want to leave Sevilla without a sweet new shirt, so it was her goal to find one during all the "rebajas" (sales) taking place. We wandered throughout the seven-story store for a while, looking at things, trying a few things on, but none of us found anything we loved. So, we went down to the grocery store and bought our food for the day/night. When we got back to the hostel, it was almost noon. While waiting for our room to be ready, we took turns using the two computers and read the brochures sitting on the table. Finally, 12:30 rolled around and we were able to sleep!!! We all claimed a bunk, turned off the lights and took our well-deserved siestas.

I woke up around 4 and saw that Becca and Taylor were also awake. Molly had left to meet up with her friend while the rest of us were still sleeping and Anna and Jenna wanted to sleep some more, so the three of us decided to walk. Becca had been to Sevilla when she was younger, and remembered a neat sidewalk along the river, so we decided to find the river. Unfortunately, we only had a small map with us that for some reason didn't include the river, so we just gave it our best shot. After about 30 minutes of walking in what turned out to be circles, we found it, along with an awkwardly random pirate ship. By then, it was about 5:30 so we decided to start heading back toward the hostel. Before, we'd just walked on the street, but on our way back we went through the Maria Louisa park. And I'm glad we did, too! As we were walking, all of a sudden the Plaza de Espana popped up out of no where! That's where part of Star Wars was filmed (the second one in the newest set of movies) and ever since I'd heard about it, I'd wanted to see it. It was breathtaking (check out my pictures from it).

Taylor left to meet up with a friend who's doing the "Semester at Sea" program, so Becca and I headed back to the hostel to eat and hang out. By 9pm, everyone was back at the hostel and we started dinner and got ready for the night. It had been Anna's birthday the Wednesday before, so this was "her" weekend. While eating, we met two really nice guys who are from the US and studying in Madrid. Our now large group (with Molly's friends as well as our new friends) finished up and got ready to go out around 11pm. Which is when we realized it was raining. But, since it was Anna's birthday (and 21st birthday at that), we sucked it up and headed out into Sevilla! Molly's friends, who have been in Sevilla almost a month for their semester abroad, knew a few fun places to go, so, despite the pouring rain, off we went! Even though we were all completely soaked by the time we made our way back to the hostel, we made sure Anna had a fun birthday, and that's all that matters.

Saturday, we rolled out of bed around 10:30 to get a head start on the day. First matter of business: the Cathedral. Since it was a lovely day, we took our time heading to the church, enjoying the flowers and orange trees surrounding us. When we got there, we noticed a large gathering of very well-dressed people surrounding one of the entries. There were fur jackets, feather hats, heels, the works. This triggered our interest, so we hung out a bit and waited to see what was going on. Finally we caught wind that a wedding was taking place that afternoon. Without really trying, we ended up being able to see the bride and the rest of the wedding procession head into the chapel. Once they were inside, we decided to do the same.

As students, we were able to get into the Cathedral for only 2 euro; much better than 8.50. Inside were gorgeous paintings, centuries of years old, leading into the main building. The actual Cathedral itself is astounding: the ceilings are stories tall, the sculpting on the walls and roof is immaculate and the detailed altars/paintings/sculptures/stained-glass-windows were breathtaking. I don't know how long I spent just staring, but I know I could have gawked a lot longer.

After seeing as much of the main Cathedral as we could, we started the climb up the Giralda tower. I've climbed to the top of the bell tower in Florence before, and the fortress in Salzburg, and both of those buildings had stairs. But here, it was a wonderful surprise to find brick ramps all the way to the top. Yes, it was still a long climb up, but at least it was gradual. At the top, although it was crowded, it was fun to see all of Sevilla. I didn't get to view all the angles due to the number of people at each window, but I saw enough to enjoy the sight.

Once we'd all taken our share of photographs, we decided to grab some lunch and work on a game plan for the rest of the day. We found a smaller restaurant, ordered sandwiches (I was quite sad when mine came with mayonnaise on it even though it hadn't said anything about mayo on the menu, the one thing I truly dislike on my food) and talked about what else we'd like to see. Becca had talked to her mom the day before, and really wanted to see the bull ring. She wasn't exactly sure where it was, but we agreed that with the map and time to wander, we'd be able to find it. Wrong. After about an hour of walking down by the river heading where we thought the ring was, we realized that we had passed it a significant amount of time ago. So, we turned around, checked the map again, and kept on trudging.

When we finally found it, it was about 4:30. Jenna headed back to the hostel to buy Phish tickets for this summer while Taylor, Becca, Anna and I stayed to take a tour of the stadium (which ended up costing 4 euro, double the Cathedral; go figure.) It turned out to be very interesting, and made me more and less interested in seeing a bullfight at the same time. We'll see what happens.

On our way back from the stadium, the four of us stopped at Plaza de Espana again to show Anna and also to climb up the stairs and see the view from the balcony. It was right around sunset, and fabulous. It's by far my favorite building I've seen here at this point! After soaking up the last of the sunlight, we made our way back to the hostel, stopping at El Jamon (the grocery store, literally, "The Ham,") to buy supplies to make dinner: pasta, tomato sauce (not just spaghetti sauce though; more like a salsa/sauce mix... hard to explain, yummy to eat), chicken, green pepper, onion and bread. And wine.

When we got back, we realized we'd been walking for over 8 hours, so we took naps before dinner. I was the first to wake up, and headed up to the kitchen to start on dinner. Becca joined me for a bit and then went to check her e-mail. While she was gone, I got to talking with a few of the people in the kitchen. One was a Spaniard, the other was from England. They chatted with me a bit about my experience so far, said that dinner smelled good and then continued their conversation. By the time dinner was ready, the other girls were awake and came upstairs to eat. We had the big table in the hostel to ourselves, and, because it was raining and because we had all walked a lot that day, we decided to hang out for the night instead of go out. We spent the night talking, laughing and getting to know each other. It's funny that even though I've only known these girls a few weeks, I feel very close to them. I guess being in a foreign country and traveling together will do that!

The next day was miserable out: cold and pouring. Our bus left at 1pm, so after checking out, we caught the city bus to the main bus station and made our way back "home." Unfortunately, we hit traffic about half-way in, so the six-hour bus ride to Madrid ended up being a seven-and-a-half-hour bus ride, which meant we didn't get to Toledo until about 9:30. But we did make it, and all of us managed to drag ourselves home. Therefore, it was another successful weekend.

Conchi had a sandwich (aka an enormous "bocadillo" made with 1/2 a loaf of french bread topped with egg, tuna and tomato) waiting for me, along with an apple and orange. I opted to eat the sandwich "open" (only one of the sides of bread), and savored the apple and orange while talking to my parents and Mark on Skype; a great ending to a fun weekend.

It's already Wednesday. We leave for Sevilla tomorrow. How did this happen? I have no idea where the time is going, but it's going there fast.

My linguistics teacher was sick today, so class was canceled... what a nice surprise! I got to come home for lunch, which is great, but it was by far the strangest meal I've had so far. It consisted of: a scoop of white rice doused in tomato sauce, three meat balls, two deviled eggs with tuna and red pepper and bread. It all tasted fine, but it was different than the lunches we've been having.

I have to head back to the Fund in about a half-hour for class at 3:30, then I'm stuck there until 9pm tonight. Bummer. I have to remember to pack tonight, because we're leaving for Madrid right after class tomorrow. No time to rest; there's too much to see!

Check-out at 10:30am comes fast when you stayed out late. Somehow, all of us managed to roll out of bed in time to eat breakfast at 10am and gather our things. It was raining, but we still wanted to check out El Rastro flea market. This weekly gathering of merchants spans across three or four streets in Madrid, and you can find virtually anything you can think of. I bought three scarves (two Pashminas, one Palestina) and a wooden ring, spending a total of 9 euro. The harder it rained, the less interested we were in exploring, so we headed into a cafe to grab some tea (me) and food while attempting to wait the rain out a bit. Tired, cold and wet, we made our way back to the hostel and decided to call it a day. The metro was less crowded (luckily), so we made it to the bus station by 1:15pm, perfect timing to catch the 2pm bus back to Toledo.

It was wonderful arriving in Toledo. Even though I've been here less than 2 weeks, it felt like coming home. That afternoon, showering and napping have never felt better.

The sun was shining, the wind was calming down and Madrid was awaiting us. Even with our long-day-late-night combo, most of us started to get up and ready around 9:45am Saturday. We didn't bother with breakfast (even though it was free). Instead, we made a quick game plan to stop and get coffee first thing before we immersed ourselves into everything-Madrid.

Our plan of attack consisted of heading back toward the Plaza Espana, where we'd been dropped off for lunch the day before. It's a pretty central location in terms of historical/important sights in Madrid, and we vaguely remembered how to get there, so off we went.

We quickly discovered that Madrid is littered with city maps for our convenience, which changed our plans a bit. Walking went slowly (what with everyone stopping to take pictures every half-block or so), but eventually we found ourselves at El Parque del Buen Retiro and Puerta de Alcala.

These two locations are very well-known and talked about in every travel book/website I've seen written on Spain, so it was fun to see them in person. Often I have to force myself to stop, take a step back and really think about where I am. I am in Spain, a country with more history, more unique cultural qualities and more intrinsic details than one can wrap their mind around. It's so easy to simply see things here, instead of comprehend them. It's never "just a building," or "just a statue." They mean something. They represent someone. They are history.

By this time, it was nearing 3pm: siesta. We were all hungry, so we decided to take a different street back toward our hostel and find somewhere to eat. A smaller cafe was still open, so we stopped in and practiced our newly-acquired restaurant ordering skills. The man serving us was great; he would only let us order and talk in Spanish, saying he was "just trying to help." I have found a new love in tortilla espanola (a Spanish omelet/potato dish), so I ordered "un pincho" of that (a slice, instead of an entire tortilla) as well as a ham sandwich. Of course, I did this forgetting where we were: a small cafe where the more grease, the better the dish. Now, I personally don't handle greasy foods very well and tend to avoid them, but I was so hungry that I ate the food anyway. Luckily my Tums were close at hand, as well as a siesta. :)

After a solid nap, we headed back to Corte Ingles to get dinner again. The streets were packed with people, way more than they had been during the day. In front of Corte was a group of people holding signs that read "Abrazos gratis!" = Free hugs! Alas, we didn't take them up on the offer, but it was fun nonetheless. We got back to the hostel around 8:30 and decided to eat in the common room. There, we met Andrew, a guy our age interning in Madrid. He's from Germany, but has studied in San Diego before, so his English was very good. We invited him to come out with us and had fun swapping stories and hearing about his experience in the United States.

We waited until midnight to go out, and Andrew took us to a place he'd found a week earlier to hang out. It wasn't too crowded, which was nice; we had room to dance :) After about a half hour, we bumped into a group of 6 guys from Ireland. It was such a nice change of pace talking with people in English instead of trying to make conversation in Spanish in a loud bar! Our two groups ended up melding together, and the twelve of us headed to get cocktails around 2am or so.  We stayed there for quite a while talking, comparing stories and learning about each others' cultures/correcting stereotypes.

A group of us headed to Kapital, the seven-story nightclub, after cocktails, but with a 20 euro cover, half of us decided against going, which was good because it was starting to drizzle and we had a long walk ahead of us. It amazed me how a lot of people were just going out at 4am. I have a ways to go before I'm up to par with Spaniards!

Needless to say, I slept very well Saturday night.

Hello, hello! I can't believe it's almost been a week since I've updated. And here I thought it had only been the weekend... perhaps I really am as out of it as I've been feeling lately! Life here moves quickly with everything being brand new and exciting, as you can imagine.

Last week was a lot to handle as the first week of classes tends to go. Monday and Tuesday are fine since I only have two classes Monday and none Tuesday. However, Wednesday and Thursday are brain-fryers. That's the best way I can think to describe how I felt. Wednesday is the day I have two sessions of my anthropology class. First of all, having the same hour-and-fifteen-minute class twice a day is a lot to handle. Secondly, my teacher is a man who talks quickly in a lower, monotone voice. Third, he says his jokes even faster than his regular sentences, so most of the time I don't even get to have a slight break because by the time the handful of us who can follow him are laughing, the moment has passed.

Wednesdays are also long because of the awkward 4:45-7:45 gap I have. I didn't think it would be a big deal, but it's not quite warm enough to walk around for kicks yet (for me.. plus I have all my books and notebooks with me), Enebro (the bar/cafe near the Fund) is closed until March 4, and I get hungry if there's nothing to occupy my mind. I couldn't get the WiFi to work on my laptop last week, either, so that was yet another option down the drain. This week, I'll bring a book to read and a snack. That should help.

Thursdays are long as well, but in a good way (compared with Wednesday). I have 4 classes back-to-back, but I have them all with friends. It helps a lot!

So that was the quick-n-dirty summary of my week. Not a lot happened at home. I feel more comfortable with my family every day, and am very thankful for that. Nicole and I went to the mall one afternoon to pick up some necessaries: blow drier (secador), converter (for her), pens, notebooks, etc. Then we may have wandered upstairs a bit and I bought a pair of brown/gray skinny jeans for 18 euro. I haven't worn them yet because I haven't felt European enough to pull them off yet, but I'll get there. This weekend, maybe! :)

Now onto this past weekend! Friday was the group excursion to Madrid. Those of us who live in Poligono were picked up at 8:45am near our houses and then carted into the city to wait for the bus coming from the Fund. We left around 9:45 and made it to the city in less than an hour. Our first stop was El Palacio Real (the royal palace). What a sight! Even with the clouds and cold, this palace was breathtaking. Unfortunately, photography isn't allowed inside, so I'm not able to share the immaculate decor that IS this fantastic building, but the pictures I did take are posted above, along with details I gathered about the palace.

Next, we were shuttled back onto the buses for a quick driving tour of (most of) the city as we made our way toward the restaurant for lunch. Some people opted to take pictures through the bus windows while driving, but I made a promise to myself to return (often) to Madrid and take photographs when: (a) it's springtime (b) I have time to focus (c) I am able to write down what I'm photographing. My ultimate goal is to take head shots of the people I encounter in the different cities I visit. Capturing a building isn't difficult, and it doesn't tell a story; faces do.

After the bus tour, it was off to lunch at El Museo del Jamon (The Ham Museum). Contrary to thought, it was not a museum and we were not served ham. Instead, we had salad (which was very refreshing and not soaked in oil!), an enormous slab of fried chicken (it looked like a giant, flattened chicken McNugget), french fries and ice cream (which I can't eat). I looked like the picky, spoiled girl, but alas I did not eat much. By 3-4pm, we were free! The 8 of us staying in the same hostel met up and started on our journey to find Musas Residence Youth Hostel. Yuki, our program director at the Fund, said it would be too far to walk, so 6 of us decided to take the metro. Taylor and Molly, on the other hand, opted to find it "Amazing Race" style.

The metro at mid-day on Friday mixed with a group of 6 girls wearing large backpacks is not a pleasant situation. While we managed to shove and cram our way in and out of the two trains needed to arrive near our hostel, we also managed to effectively anger just about anyone we encountered. Note to self: find a shoulder-sling bag to pack, thus eliminating the possibility of annihilating those poor people who happen to be behind me.

When we arrived at the hostel, who did we see but a very large group of Norte Dame students! Hostelworld.com seems to do the trick for all of us booking places to stay for the night. After a long wait, the eight of us (Molly and Taylor arrived half an hour after us) checked in, locked our things up and were ready to explore. Using Anna's metro map as well as her mini street map, we headed into Madrid, not exactly knowing what we were doing, but not exactly caring.

((more to come... time to go to class...))

Okay, it's now Tuesday. I should finish this up before the next weekend creeps up on me! So, night one of exploring Madrid consisted of wandering into Plaza del Sol, getting some espresso, window shopping and discovering Corte Ingles. Basically, it's an 8-story department store/sporting goods store/super market. Incredible. Everything's pretty pricey besides the food, so that's where we headed. Each of us bought some bread (0.80 euro), wine (0.65 euro), "other" (for me it was olive paste for the bread and some toast crackers, the other girls got some cheese to share). All said, we each spent less than 3 euro on a surprisingly satisfying dinner.

We headed back to the hostel around 7:30pm to eat and get ready to go out. It was Becca's birthday last Monday, so we considered this weekend "her" weekend. Molly brought pin-the-tail-on-the-donkey (yup.) and we all chipped in for her all night. I went back to my roots of doing hair and spiffed up Taylor, Anna and Jenna with some fun do's. I forgot how much I missed doing that! Anyway, we held out until 11pm and then headed into Madrid. People here don't go out until 11-midnight, so we had to prep ourselves in order to last through the night.

Just by walking around our hostel, we were able to find quite a few fun places to hang out. Unfortunately, smoking is still very much permitted here, so that is one of the major downsides of Spain: smelling like second-hand smoke nearly all the time. My conversation teacher said that smoking is actually legally banned indoors, but not enforced. Hopefully that will change soon!

Since it had been an early morning/long day, we only made it to 3am this first night in Madrid. Knowing we had a full day of exploring helped motivate us to head back to the hostel, too. So back to Jesus y Maria street we went, and got a pretty decent night's rest of 6 hours or so.

No class Tuesday! Yes. I love it. But for some reason, even though I slept in today, I'm extremely tired right now. Hm. So this entry will be more of an outline than a novel like the last few.

When I woke up, I went downstairs, had my coffee and watched TV while Conchi ironed.

Then, it was time for lunch. My mom fed me double what everyone else ate. Elena only had soup, dad only had meat and bread, Miguel and Conchi only had spaghetti. I had soup and spaghetti.

After lunch, I met up with Nicole to go to the mall and then to the Fund. We took the 61 by accident, and had to get off then get on the 62, but we made it! At the mall, I bought a hairdryer, pens, a mini-notebook to write down all the new vocab words I'm hearing/learning every day and a pair of gray jeans on sale at Mango.

We left to go to the Fund at 5:30 and got there just in time for me to talk to Yuki about my bus card (which ran out of money even though it was supposed to last me the whole semester... hm...) and watched OBAMA'S INAUGURATION! Oh, it was so exciting. Even though we had to watch it in Spanish and couldn't hear what Obama was actually saying, I had goosebumps the entire time. The local news station came to watch our reactions, so that was neat, too.

When Obama's speech was over, a bunch of us signed up for the different clubs offered this semester. I only did the sports one.

I got home around 8 and Nicole came over to do our Conversation homework. When she left, it was time for dinner. It was just Conchi and me, and it was the most "interesting" meal yet. A twist on potato salad: potato, garlic, onion, tomato and tuna; and chicken fried in olive oil... three rather large pieces. Even though I wasn't very hungry, I feel bad saying no to Conchi, so I ate as much as I could. During dinner we talked about Obama, eyesight, shopping and the news.

And now it's time for bed. I'm definitely not looking forward to having class all day tomorrow, but oh well. It happens.

Today was the first day of classes. But too much happened on yesterday to start there.

Yesterday, I met my family. I know what you're thinking, "But Ellen, you've been living with your family for the past 5 days. You already met them!" Oh no. I mean my extended family. Every Sunday, we go to Conchi's parent's house in a different neighborhood outside of Toledo. There, we gather with Conchi's brother, his wife and their 12-year-old daughter, Claudia. From what I gathered, Conchi and her sister-in-law clean the apartment while the men go out, which leaves Claudia and myself to watch television with the Grandma. They receive five channels - none of which are entertaining. For example, the hour I sat next to her, Grandma flipped through Beethoven (the English movie dubbed in Spanish), horse racing in Sevilla, a nature program and landed on some sort of teenage comedy/drama, which we watched until lunch was (finally) ready. They don't turn off the TV during meals here, either. Oh no. We watched The Simpsons while eating. That's when I learned how hard it is to try to listen to a real conversation, tell Conchi that I didn't need or want more food, have my brain trying to translate The Simpsons as it blasts behind me, shush the dog as it barked constantly and figure out what on earth I'm eating.

After lunch, my uncle took quite the interest in my height (a common past-time here, it seems.) Since I don't know how tall I am in centimeters, he and my grandpa took it upon themselves to figure it out. From what I can tell, they decided I am 180 centimeters. Fantastic.

Apparently Conchi's mom has been sick for quite some time, so the family decided it was time to make her see a doctor Sunday. That was quite the show. As everyone insisted that she go, the Grandma waved them off saying doctors know nothing and that they couldn't help her anyway. Then she proceeded to tell everyone of how badly her head and chest hurt, and how she wished someone could do something for her. Finally, they convinced her to go. Which is great, except I had to ride home with my newly-acquainted aunt, uncle and cousin. Claudia, although a bit spoiled and very talkative, turned out to be a lifesaver. She didn't care how stupid I sounded while trying to make conversation; she only cared that I listened and nodded appropriately. She even attempted to teach me a few things during the ride. Before dropping me off, they decided to stop at a cafe/bar. My uncle bought me a coffee (sin leche, since I can't drink milk), introduced me to a friend (who also decided to tell me I'm tall) and chatted up the room. He's a policeman in La Guardia Civil and seems to be quite confident in himself, to say it politely. While he talked, I chatted with Claudia about my highlights, her drinking decaf coffee, and her love for chocolate.

I finally got home around 4pm, just in time for a short nap. I had told Molly, Nicole and Taylor that I'd explore Toledo with them at 5:30, so after sleeping a little that's precisely what I did. Nicole went with Ben and Shannon for a run while Molly, Taylor, Jenna and I took a walk to the park outside of Toledo. After wandering around there for a while, we went back into the city and walked around some more. We met up with the runners in el Zocodover around 7 and then the seven of us wandered some more. Even though I'll be here four months, I'm convinced there will always be a street or part of Toledo that I had no idea existed. There are no prominent road signs; we only know where we are because of landmarks. Once you lose your landmark or get turned around, all you can do is retrace your steps.

I got back around 8:30 from my adventures to a full house. Conchi's niece was visiting with her husband and almost-one-year-old son, Jugo. I joined the group in the living room to "visit" (talk in broken sentences and rely on the baby/Chispe to save me) before heading upstairs to change. Mom and I had made a Skype date earlier in the week for 10pm, so I didn't want to miss it. Conchi insisted on making me dinner (probably the most amazing ham sandwich I've ever had: 1/2 loaf of hard-crust french bread with 4 slices of fried ham, tomato, lettuce and some kind of dressing) and then I headed upstairs to get my webcam ready.

I talked with Mom, Dad and Mark for about an hour, read some of "Wicked" and went to bed. Around 3:30am I heard what sounded like rustling plastic outside my window (loud plastic). I still can't see what it is, but it's very annoying and kept me from falling back asleep. I decided to go on the computer to try and distract myself, which would hopefully lead to being tired again, and ended up talking with Hilary on Skype for over an hour. It was good to see my family!

That brings us to today. My first class on Mondays - linguistics - isn't until 12:55, so I was able to sleep in a bit before showering (cold!!!) and catching the bus. Of course I got turned around heading to the Fund - typical first-day-of-school scenario - but I made it in time for class. After class I hurried home for lunch and siesta. I was able to follow part of the conversation (it helps when I see my dad use hand motions) and therefore was able to participate, but I still feel lost 95% of the time. After siesta, I went with Nicole and Shannon to the Super Market down the street to buy notebooks and a pencil for class. It was raining today, so the walk wasn't exactly enjoyable. By the time we got home, I had just enough time to change, fix my now wet and wind-blown hair and meet Nicole to catch the 7pm bus for night class, which is conversation.

It was Becca's 21st birthday today, so after class a group of us (Nicole, Alex, Jane, Jeff, Becca and myself) went out for tapas and drinks to celebrate. Since it's Monday night, not many places were open, but we managed to find a cafe to buy her a glass of wine and some food. It wasn't much, but it was something! After dinner, we got very lost. Very, very lost. We even pulled out the map. But we had a few minutes before the last bus came at 11, so we managed to have fun even though we had no idea where we were. The funniest parts of the night included: Alex repeating word-for-word what Jane said right after she finished saying it, then not knowing why Jeff and I were laughing; Jane responding to processed meats and being anti-PETA being, "Well, I've read a lot of those weird chicken books, so I know where it comes from guys." (meaning she's read books about how poorly chickens are treated); and Nicole showing Alex with her hands how the 61 and 62 buses are different routes, and Alex thinking the 62 went the wrong way in round-abouts. It's much funnier when hand motions are involved.

I got home around 11:40 and Miguel opened the door right as I was walking up the steps. I said hi to him and Chispe (also there to greet me) and went to chat with Conchi a bit. She was cooking (of course), told me to eat something (of course) and then asked me about tomorrow. Then Miguel (dad) asked me where I went after class (which I didn't know... we didn't look at the name of the restaurant. Stupid.), what I ate (tortilla) and then said that Conchi's mom makes the best tortilla, even better than Conchi's (which I loved). I still have to ask him to repeat things often, which I hate, but at least we're talking more. Both Conchi and Miguel told me I should go watch the movie with Miguel (brother) or hang out with Elena and Luis (her boyfriend), but I thought either situation would be extremely awkward, and opted to take my food to my room instead. I know they probably think I'm anti-social, but I'm still so bad at conversational Spanish that I successfully make any and every run-in with my siblings uncomfortable. Oh well.

Okay, I'm tired. Time to get ready for bed. This weekend is our trip to Madrid, so hopefully we don't get too much homework. I have to write the first draft of a paper for linguistics, but I'll do that tomorrow. Anna, Molly, Taylor, Jenna, Nicole, Becca, myself and a few other girls booked a hostel for Friday night and we're looking forward to exploring Madrid. Let's hope the weather cooperates!

Unfortunately, I didn't sleep very well last night and then didn't have much of a siesta today, so when 11pm rolled around and people started talking about plans for the night, I decided to stay in. I'm trying hard to tell myself that it's good of me to rest and be ready for the first week of classes, but it's hard not to feel like I'm being lame and missing out. The only thing that's comforting is that this is only our fourth day here, and I have another four months to go out and make memories. So here I am, ready for bed and a good night's rest.

Today was BUSY. It started with going to the outdoor market a few blocks from my house with Nicole. Our moms both told us we should go check it out, so off we went at 11am to see what it was all about. After a long - but fun - night out and only six hours of sleep, neither of us were exactly bright-eyed and shiny, but we made the best of it. The market was like a farmer's market, but with clothes. There were lots of shoe vendors, clothing vendors and purse/accessory vendors. I made the mistake of showing interesting in a jacket, which resulted in the woman who ran the stand forcing me to take off my peacoat (even though it was quite chilly!) and try on the obviously-too-small chaqueta. And all I'd wanted to do was show Nicole the color I liked.

Nicole bought sweatpants and a purse con una cremallera (with a zipper), I didn't buy anything. One good thing that came from the market was that we got to explore Poligono a bit and scope out places that we could hang out during the week. We found what we think could be a cute cafe called "Calle 13," but we're going to ask our moms to make sure it's not sketchy.

After exploring/shopping, we went home for lunch. It was only 12:30 when I got back, so I talked to Conchi for a bit and then went to my room to read and play with Chispe. At 2:30, everyone gathered to eat lunch. Elena and Miguel eat really quickly, and up until today I'd always tried to keep up with them, but there was no way I could eat that fast and still comprehend pieces of the conversation. Luckily, Conchi told me that I should take my time to eat; that not everyone eats as quickly as they do. The news was on during lunch, so I was able to talk with Conchi and Miguel about politics a bit as well as the plane crash in the Hudson River. Every day I'm making progress!

After lunch, I went to take my siesta, but kept getting text messages from the girls to plan for that afternoon/night. I finally fell asleep for an hour or so, but then it was time to go to Luz del Tajo (the mall) with Nicole, her mom (Isabell), Isabell's sister and Shannon. We got there around 5:15 and agreed to meet at 7:45. The three of us only made it to three stores the whole time we were there, but each of us found some thing we liked. I bought a plum-colored turtleneck sweater-dress, a vest (un chaleco) and a straightener for my hair. There are a ton of sales right now, so I only spent $32 euro. We met up with Ben and Matthew while shopping, too. It's funny how many students we see from the Fund around Toledo and Poligono! Nicole and I bumped into a boy from Notre Dame, Jim, at the market earlier that day. It makes the town seem more like home.

After shopping, I went over to Nicole's house to hang out for a while. I met her family and crazy dog, and then went up to her room so that we could talk in English for a while. That's when it hit me how tired I was (am) and decided against going out. Which meant I got to text just about everyone whom I'd told earlier I'd meet up with at 11. After that, I headed back home, talked to Elena a bit and was there just in time for Conchi to call, realize I was home and rush back from her mom's house to make me dinner (even though I told Elena to tell her I could find something to eat, Conchi insisted on cooking for me.) She made me a ham omelet, mushrooms, bread with some kind of spread on it and more bread (we always, always have a loaf of bread on the table at all times.) Miguel (my dad) and I ate together in the living room while watching the Sevilla vs. _____ game on TV. It was so great bonding with him! We talked about soccer, the sausage he was eating and then the "trash TV" that Conchi likes to watch. He even made a joke that I completely understood, so we were able to laugh together. I told him that I didn't understand all the rules of soccer, and he turned to me and said, "Well, you see that little ball? They try to put it in the net. That's the rule." And then he just burst out laughing! Since he was on a roll, he kept going by telling me how a friend of his said he didn't understand soccer because "it's a bunch of grown men with a lot of money chasing one ball. Why don't they just buy their own balls?" It felt good to feel comfortable around him and show him that I really can understand him (most of the time.)

After dinner, Conchi wouldn't sit still until I had a dessert, so I had two "bon bons" while she watched me and asked me repeatedly if I liked them. I assured her, yet again, that I like everything. Then she and I watched some of the "trash TV" that Miguel was telling me about. I could follow along pretty well, but they talk awfully fast, so I just did the best I could until my head hurt too much. Which brings us to now. I still haven't been able to connect with my family back home besides e-mail, and am trying Skype right now, but no one's answering. Tomorrow we'll try again.

Until then, sweet dreams to you in Europe and have a wonderful evening to everyone in America!

Ciao,
E

Bueno, I'm currently trying to figure out what to wear out tonight. I'm meeting up with a bunch of girls at the Fund at 11pm to go out on the town. It's not super cold (like in MN) but Conchi said that it's colder than it usually is in Toledo for this time of year. Everyone I saw today had huge scarves on, most of them covering their entire faces. Without a straightener or curling iron, I'm not sure what I'll do with my hair, either; freestyle I guess!

Today was our tour of Toledo by bus and walking. What a gorgeous city! It has such an amazing history, too, being tossed between the Muslims and the Romans and the Arabs and then back to the Christians. So interesting. I can't wait until it's warmer to picnic on the hills across the river overlooking Toledo. That view+wine+friends= incredible.

I was able to follow along more at lunch today. Miguel (my dad) was telling a story about a robbery that happened a few days ago. What I got from it was his friend's business was robbed, the robbers were from South America and they stole his radiator. So... yeah. He was very animated, and when he got to the part about la Guardia Civil not coming, my brother (also Miguel) got extremely upset. He's going to police academy in February, and seems to be very passionate about it. Miguel asked me if I understood what he was saying, and I said that I did a little. Then my mom explained it to me in very dumbed-down terms and I'm pretty sure Miguel told the story again. He still intimidates me, but he can be very funny and I know that once I feel more comfortable with my Spanish, we'll get along well. He was saying that Chispe (our dog) wants a girlfriend. I got that :)

My mom and I chatted for a long time tonight. I went down to the kitchen while she was making dinner and talked with her about my family and asked her about hers. She has two brothers: one lives near here with his wife and daughter (who talks "mucho, mucho, mucho") and one passed away in a car accident 4 years ago around Christmas. It was very sad to hear her talk about it. Her parents also live nearby, and she said we go over there for lunch most Sundays. I'm really excited to meet them!

Well, time to get ready. I'm meeting Nicole and Shannon at 10:30 to catch the bus to Toledo, then we're meeting Alex, Becca, Molly, Anna, Taylor, Kristen and whoever else wants to come to go out; hopefully dancing.

Tomorrow, I'm going to the market with Nicole. My mom said there are a lot of sales right now, and that we'll find the most unique things at the outdoor plazas. Then later, after lunch and siesta, we're going with Nicole's mom to the mall and meeting up with a few girls there. Should be fun :)

It's 5:22pm here, and I just woke up from a siesta (nap). What a great tradition: everyone who is able to comes home around 2 for lunch (almuerza) and after, if you don't have to return to work right away, you take a short nap. Of course, my nap was a little over an hour, but I'm still playing catch up from traveling.

Today has been busy so far, but it's been good. We had to be at la Fundacion at 9am, so Nicole and I met at 8:30 to walk to the bus stop together. Her abuelita (grandma) joined us; she's so sweet! She talked slowly so that we could understand her, taught us about our surroundings and gave us candies at the bus stop. Then she walked us all the way to school to make sure we arrived safely. We realized later that we'd forgotten to give her besos (kisses) when we parted ways, and made mental notes to not forget again.

Right away, we had to take tests to see what classes we can take. It was a lot after a rather fitful night's rest, and I didn't do so great. But that's okay, because I wasn't looking to take hard classes! My schedule is as follows:
Monday= 12:55-2:10 Linguistics; 7:45-9pm Advanced Spanish Conversation

Tuesday= no class

Wednesday= 11:30-12:45, 3:30-4:45 Ethnology and Folklore of the Iberian Peninsula; 12:55-2:10 Linguistics; 7:45-9pm Advanced Spanish Conversation

Thursday= 11:30-12:45, 3:30-4:45 Christian, Muslim, Jewish Art: Toledo

With no class on Tuesday, I'm hoping to use that day to do as much homework as possible so that I don't have a lot each night. Nicole only has class until 11:20, so we were talking about exploring around Poligono a bit this weekend and finding a place to go study together after she gets back from class. There are a lot of us living in Poligono, which makes it more fun. A small group of us girls are going to the mall on Saturday and then checking out what else there is to do in Poligono. That way, we don't have to worry about getting home after staying out in Toledo. Save a few euros :)

It frustrates me how poorly I'm able to speak Spanish. I can't think fast enough and then feel foolish. My mom told me not to worry about it, that it's normal, but I wish I could at least hold a decent conversation. I'm pretty sure my dad thinks I'm less-than-average intelligence wise, but I'm really going to try hard to listen a lot and pick up things as quickly as possible. I've also been looking up words I want to say but can't think of quick enough in my dictionary, so hopefully that helps.

Well, Nicole's going to be here in 20 minutes to head back to the Fund. We have another orientation tonight at 7pm and then a special welcome dinner at 8:30. I love my family, but I'm relieved to spend the night with new friends who are in the same boat as me. We might go out after the dinner, which I'm also looking forward to.

God is good, and is constantly showing me He's here to take care of me. It will be a good semester. Full of adventure and trials, to be sure, but good nonetheless.

_ _ _

After orientation and dinner (which was just a lot of snacks and pasta salads), a few of us went to Enebro to hang out and relax a bit. Five of us - Ben, Matthew, Nicole and Shannon - shared a bottle of wine (which we later realized would have been cheaper had we each bought our own glass of wine) and I spent the night floating between them and another group - Becca, Alex, Kristen and Jane. A bunch of us are going to explore Poligono (our neighborhood) tomorrow after lunch so that we aren't stuck leaving Toledo at 11 when the bus comes or trying to share a taxi. Then on Saturday, we're going to the mall to pick up some of the things we left behind in Minnesota (or North Carolina, in Alex's case). It should be fun. I'm also trying to get a few people together for church Sunday. Which means I have to figure out where church is. Good thing I like being busy :)

Buenas noches!

It's 10:36pm here and I just had an exhausting day (that feels like a dream.) I got to the MSP airport at 10:00am Tuesday (yesterday), flew to Atlanta at 1pm, had an hour in Atlanta and then flew to Madrid at 4pm. Our flight went faster than planned because of good "back winds," so we landed in Madrid at 8:30am instead of 9:40am. I met up with Ben and Andy, both from the U of M, and the three of us maneuvered our way about the airport, found a place to sit, played cards until 11am, then went to meet up with another chunk of our group. On the bus ride to Toledo, I feel asleep. When I woke up, we were surrounded by cobblestone streets and worn buildings, which simply added to the dream-like state I was in. Actually, while sleeping on the bus, I dreamt that this was all indeed a dream. Nope!

After lunch at the Fund, me, Andy and Kim explored Toledo a bit and then we had a small orientation. Then, those of us living with families split off from those living in the dorms to have a little chat about what to expect and what the day would probably look like. And then, we met them. Our families were waiting for us when we got done with our meeting, and I felt like I was going to faint. Mi madre, Conchi, was there with her son (my brother), Miguel. I did the kisses (accidentally kissing her on the cheek instead of simply making the noise), and then the three of us attempted to chat for a bit. Again, in my dream-like haze, I was no good at talking. But we established that I am friends with Janey (their host daughter from last semester), and things were good from there.

Conchi showed me the bus route I'll be taking every day for school (61) and then we were home. My room is adorable...I even have my own balcony! After the tour, I unpacked and took a short nap. When I woke up, I heard someone coming upstairs. I figured it was Conchi, but then a different woman popped her head in! Luckily, it was because my friend, Nicole (from camp), is living right next door! Her balcony is next to mine, even! So that was a good way to wake up :)

After chatting with Nicole, Conchi said it was almost time for dinner. While we waited for Miguel to come home, I showed her the photo book of the Twin Cities I bought as a gift for them and tried to explain each picture. She's very patient with me, so it ended up working out pretty well. Elena (my sister), Miguel, Conchi and I ate dinner together, and I tried to answer their questions as best I could. I hope it's just my tiredness making me incoherent/awful at Spanish, because I know I sounded like a babbling idiot.

My dad came downstairs right after dinner, and we attempted to talk a bit. He's a lot harder to understand than Conchi, but we established that I can, indeed, speak Spanish; I was just tired. (He kept having to repeat himself, and I felt so stupid!)

But really, I'm too tired to care too much. So off to bed I go. Hopefully to wake up to bright sunshine, a balmy 40-degree day and being fluent in Spanish. That would be a sweet dream come true :)

Buenas noches, mis amigos y familila! Se amo mucho.

E

In twelve hours and thirty minutes, I'll be leaving for the airport with my barely-under-50-pounds suitcase in tow, my stuffed-full backpack on and my family surrounding me. How this day crept up on me, I still have no idea. Am I ready? For the most part. All I've talked about the past two weeks has been Spain, both by choice as well as by convenience (mostly for them.) "Are you nervous or excited?" seems to be the key question. The winning answer? "A little of both!" with a massive grin. That way, the questioner feels as if they've succeeded in asking a significant question, and I come across as not naive, but not above being scared. And I am. Scared, that is. I mean, let's look at the circumstances: I will be living with four complete strangers, going to class with 50+ complete strangers, living in a completely strange city in a foreign country out of one suitcase, and making travel plans on whims based on what I've heard and hear others talking about. So yes, I am scared. But that's not going to stop me. In fact, it's quite the opposite. I'm determined to use my fear to motivate me to explore even more, learn even more and accomplish even more. If I don't leave my comfort zone now, when will I? And how can one grow if they don't leave their bubble? So this semester, I vow to increase my bubble. It can only float higher from here.

Today was my aunt Janine and my grandpa's birthday. I watched Malachi, Josiah and Elijah while Rod took Janine out to what turned into a surprise birthday party. After dinner, Janine had a bunch of her girl friends over for cake. Two of them, Fae and Jennifer, have both been to Europe multiple times (Jennifer grew up in Scotland) and had amazing ideas for me. Fae recommended the "Glacier Express" which runs from Italy through the Alps in Switzerland. Jennifer told me about the "hover boat" that I can take to the UK. My favorite idea was from Fae: Alp jumping. Basically, you run down the side of a mountain in Switzerland while attached to a "jumping guide" and then leap off a cliff and parachute down the mountain... all for $80! She's e-mailing Janine details about it so that I can get an idea for where it is to plan it into my "itinerary." I can't believe I leave on Tuesday. There's still so much to do...

I just finished unpacking from moving back home after fall semester. Yes, it took me 3 weeks to find time to do this. All I can think about is Spain: what I still need to do, what I've forgotten, what to pack, what to bring as a gift to my host family, what words I need to look up/write down. All Spain, all the time. I don't know if I would classify how I'm feeling as nervous. In fact, I'm not sure if I'm able to define how I'm feeling at all right now. No matter how long I think about and try to plan for next semester, I'm left with the realization that there's no way I'll be able to be prepared for everything. And that's a strange feeling. There's no checklist big enough I can make that will cover all the areas and experiences I'm about to have. I feel like I'm on a teeter-totter, and whomever is on the other side is constantly switching. One moment I am completely ready to go; all I need to do is pack my bags and I'm gone. The next moment my stomach does a flip and all I want to do is crawl into my bed where I know I am safe and in control. One thing I do know is that spring semester will be something completely different than anything I've ever experienced or will ever experience again. I don't know exactly what that means, but I do know I'm looking forward to finding out. 9 days.